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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27109036">I've Got You Brother</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lansfics7/pseuds/Lansfics7'>Lansfics7</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Supernatural</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>ALL OF IT, Angst, Baby, Bad Parent John Winchester, Bar fights, Brotherly Angst, Brotherly Love, Case, Comfort, Conversations in the Impala (Supernatural), Dean's a big brother, Drinking, Fist Fights, Fluff, Gen, Ghosts, Hotels, How Do I Tag, Hunt, Hunt Gone Wrong, Hurt Dean Winchester, Hurt Sam Winchester, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, John Winchester A+ parenting, Just Vibes, No Time Frame, Nostalgia, Not, One Shot Collection, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Protective Dean Winchester, Protective Sam Winchester, Protectiveness, Sad Ending, Sorry Not Sorry, The Impala (Supernatural), Throwbacks to season 1, Violence, a little scary, early seasons, for one of them, i want them to be happy, planes</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 16:35:30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>152,485</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27109036</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lansfics7/pseuds/Lansfics7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Just some one shots of the world's best brothers :)<br/>A pick me up since we all are ignoring the finale...let's reminisce with some early seasons vibes.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Dean Winchester &amp; Sam Winchester</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>294</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>116</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Thermostats and Planes</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hey lovely readers! Back at it againnnnn with some supernaturallllll :)<br/>These are just short one shots I have saved that i edited up and will post every couple of days. Theyre helping me through the pain of season 15. Uhhhh spoiler wiseeee- i dont think there is any for this one shot, I will say in advance which ones have spoilers though. I did sm school work today so this helped me just chill XD<br/>I hope you like it!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sam whacks Dean’s arm as he tries to turn down the temperature in the Impala. He turns and faces him with a glare, his teeth clenched as he waves his arms in exaggeration. “Dude, seriously. I have put up with it for about a hundred miles. It’s a freaking arctic in here!”</p><p>They had just been cooped up in this car for far too long, with nothing to go at except each other's throats. Cabin fever, one might call it, and being stuck in the same cabin as your annoying older brother for...your whole life, meant that sometimes, you snapped over stupid things. Like the temperature. God, he'd do anything to get a break from this car at the moment. Maybe he was dramatic then too; Dean said he always was.</p><p>However, Sam was not exaggerating on the temperature inside the sleek, black 67. He had grabbed his jacket from the seat behind him a couple miles back he was so cold, but somehow Dean was still shedding his clothing like it was a nice sunny day. His brother was comfortable in a t-shirt, which made no sense. And it made Sam look stupid. So he tries to change the temperature again.</p><p>Dean shoots him a glare, continuing to parry his attempts with the back of his hand. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t understand that, Mr. I like it 100 degrees 24/7. Excuse me if I don't want to drive in a sauna, your highness,” Dean snaps, fully turning to shove Sam in the chest.</p><p>Sam rebounds immediately with wise eyes, reaching over to grab the wheel as Dean looks away from it, distracted by the task of beating the crap out of his younger brother. The car swerves and luckily there’s no one on the road. Sam scoffs as he jams his finger forward and chides, “Wheel Dean!”</p><p>The older Winchester’s gaze finds him and he sneers mockingly as he straightens the car out, Baby’s wheels letting out a high pitched screech. He smiles fakely and insists, “I got it," before rubbing the dash and muttering something about stupid younger siblings. </p><p>“You’re not even looking at the road!” Sam protests, brushing his bangs out of his face as he motions with his hand.</p><p>“Shut up,” Dean rolls his eyes as he grips the steering wheel harder to make a point. “I am too.”</p><p>Sam fumes in the seat for about another mile. Eventually, when he feels that enough time has passed, he reaches over calmly, and turns it up two degrees. Dean turns it back down a second later.</p><p>"Dean, you'd think there's a ghost in here. I can see my breath," Sam growls, putting a hand to his forehead.</p><p>"Princess, you're just sensitive," Dean sneers back, turning up the radio.</p><p>Sam makes a face and Dean refuses to return the eye contact. Glaring at his brother he crosses his arms, chewing on his cheek before he sighs and turns it up again. Dean reached immediately forward and turns it back down.</p><p>"DUDE-" Sam swears.</p><p>"Don't touch it-" Dean puts up a finger. </p><p>The two engage in a furious staring contest that results in a draw when a phone rings, making them both jump. Sam looks pointedly at Dean and drawls, “Well it’s not mine.”</p><p>His older brother glances at him incredulously and pats his pants, exclaiming, “Well, it’s not mine!” His hand flicks to the glove compartment as he points in realization, “It’s dad’s. Go find it.”</p><p>Sam brushes a strand of hair out of his face with a huff. He pulls the handle by his knee, bringing the compartment down in between his legs and shuffles through the scrap paper, extra ammunition, and broken phones they kept charged until he finds the one that is ringing.</p><p>“Jackpot,” he announces. Sam straightens, wincing as he bends forward again to close the open door. Then flips it open and puts it to his ear, “Hello?”</p><p>"Who is it, Sammy?" Dean looks over at him with a questioning glance, but Sam can’t tell just yet from the voice.</p><p>
  <em>“Hey Sam, good, the person I was looking for. I was hoping I could reach you or your brother but this is the only number I have. This is Ryan, I was a friend of your dad’s?”</em>
</p><p>Sam gives Dean a nod that he can match man’s voice to a face. They had helped him a while back with a case and hadn’t seen him since.</p><p>Sam curls his lip in a smile and responds brightly, “Ryan! Hey, man, how’s it going?”</p><p>
  <em>“Wish I could say better...you anywhere near Indiana?”</em>
</p><p>Nope.</p><p>They weren’t.</p><p>Not even close.</p><p>But Sam said slowly, “We could be. It would take us a bit, but we haven’t found a job so we’re free.”</p><p>
  <em>“Great, thanks. How’s Dean doing?” </em>
</p><p>Sam’s gaze flicks over to his brother and sighs, “Annoying as ever.” He avoids a sloppy side punch from Dean and smiles, “He’s good. Wait so...what’s in Indiana?”</p><p>
  <em>“I’m honestly not sure and I can’t get my hands on records for another day and a half. This thing is fast and it’s smart. Five people dead so far, I finally got a lock down on the town.” </em>
</p><p>Sam winces, “That bad huh?”</p><p>
  <em>“Yeah, I’ve got them convinced it’s some serial killer, which is the only reason they let me make the call. But it’s not gonna last long.” </em>
</p><p>“We can get there by tomorrow afternoon,” Sam estimated, checking his watch and yanking out a map.</p><p>“Where?” Dean cut in, his brow furrowed as he stalls the car, prepared to do a u-turn on the open stretch of road.</p><p>“Indiana,” Sam mouthed silently, bracing himself on instinct as Dean gets that smile on his face and does a wide 180 before slamming on the pedal just for kicks, launching the car forward.</p><p>“We’ll be there by the morning,” Dean said confidently, flashing a cocky smile. Sam gave him a look and shook his head in disbelief- well not disbelief....exasperation was a better word. Sometimes it was a wonder they were related. </p><p><em>“I’ll need you to meet me at the site of the most recent crime...there may be another one before you get here,”</em> Ryan said sadly, sobering the mood. Sam winced. The man's sigh was muffled like he had run his hand over his face when he exhaled, <em>“I’ll uh- ok, yeah, I'll send you all the info I have and the locations. You have a number I can text?” </em></p><p>Sam nodded, reaching and digging through his pocket to pull out his own phone, “Yeah, I’ll text the number you’re using right now.”</p><p>
  <em>“By the way- I don’t know how you feel about me getting you some plane tickets? I’m serious, I’ve got connections. By the time it actually all gets set, it will probably be the same time frame, but it may be a smoother ride than in a cramped car. Pull in the nearest airport parking lot and I’ll get you hooked up.” </em>
</p><p>Sam looked over at Dean who was drumming on the steering wheel, putting in a Van Halen cassette tape which Sam knew he was going to crank up the minute they were done with the phone call. He looked down and smirked, remembering a minute ago when he had said he would do anything to get out of this car. Sam knew his older brother was deathly scared of planes and he shook his head, “Nah. I think we’re good. If Dean says we’ll get there by tomorrow morning, we’ll get there by tomorrow morning.”</p><p>“Now you’re talking, Sammy,” Dean whooped, pressing harder on the gas, nearly flooring it as they sped down the stretch of road.</p><p>
  <em>“Alright, have it your way. I’ll send you everything I know Sam, but I’m telling you...it’s not much.” </em>
</p><p>“Alright Ryan, well...happy to help. See you tomorrow,” Sam clicked off the phone with a loud sigh. “So, Indiana.”</p><p>“Indiana,” Dean agreed with a grin, and with a grin on his face, the older Winchester cranked the music full blast.</p><p>Sam wouldn’t trade this for any plane ride, and he can’t hide the content smirk on his face. Dean pretends not to notice it, just like Sam pretends to be looking away when his brother sighs and turns the temperature up 2 degrees. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Coffee is great. I've had a bunch of cups today and im very hyper ANYWAY i hope you liked it it's tiny, and next one will be posted soon :) Please tell me what you thought in the comments, I love hearing from you guys &lt;3<br/>Take care, stay healthy!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Two Rooms</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>im just gonna crank these out XD whats up lovely readers how r ya<br/>this one has season 2 finale spoilers in the big paragraph with ITALICS. So....yeah XD hope you enjoy!!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“I am ready for some sleep,” Dean grumbled as he pulled into the parking space at the front row, putting the car in park with a slight shove to the stick. He yawned as he turned off the Impala, sliding the key smoothly out and bringing a hand over his face. His voice even portrayed his exhaustion that his brother next to him was feeling too. “This is the closest motel to the town with the suicides but there’s no way anyone’s up right now.”</p><p>Sam tiredly checked his watch, “I’d say we have about...6 hours to catch some shut eye? We need to get an early start and talk to the witness." He motioned weakly out his window, "She lives down the road.”</p><p>The older Winchester groaned, glaring at the time. "Six hours...that's like..." he trails off and runs a hand down his cheek and eye, blinking. "I was gonna make a comparison but I'm too tired. Case in point, six hours is not long enough," Dean concluded with a long sigh. He pushed open his door and got out of the car, stretching his legs and kicking them to try and get the blood flowing. Then he ducked his head back into the car, making eye contact with his younger brother and nearly threatening, “So that means get your butt out of the car and let’s get a room, slow poke. I want to go to bed.”</p><p>"What's got your shorts in a knot?" Sam rolled his eyes but he listened to the eldest and opened his door, closing it behind him before looping around to the trunk.</p><p>"First off, I'm wearing jeans," Dean corrected as he revealed their arsenal in the back of the car, pushing aside the guns to get to their bags.</p><p>Sam rubbed the bridge of his nose, "It's an expression Dean-"</p><p>"-I don't do shorts," Dean said firmly. "And I don't know, maybe sleep deprivation?" the hunter slurred sarcastically as he answered his brother's question, tossing Sam's duffel to him. They shut the trunk and crossed the parking lot, self consciously looking around to make sure no one was following them. Dean and Sam glanced to the top of the door in unison when they got into the building, a small bell sounding their entrance. Dean had a sudden urge to rip it down and he fumed at it until his brother, as if knowing, put a hand on his arm and shoved him gently forward.</p><p>At the light sound, man looked up from the counter. “Wow, you guys must have been driving all night,” he exclaimed. </p><p>"Yeah." Dean grinned weakly and leaned on the counter, putting his weight on his leg that fell asleep from the long car ride, “Day <em> and </em> night. Could we get a room please?”</p><p>The man nodded, tapping the table as he pulled open the drawer, glancing between the two of them, “So...a King Size bed?”</p><p>Red flag.</p><p>Alarm.</p><p>Bells.</p><p>Dean’s gaze snapped up immediately and he heard Sam snort behind him. The eldest shook his head and tries to explain as quickly as possible with a half functioning brain that barely could tell his mouth how to form words, “Uh- what- no. No, no, nononono- Brothers.” He pointed to Sam and laughed without humor, “We’re brothers. Two beds.”</p><p>To help, Sam put two fingers up and nodded, mumbling, "B-brothers." Thank you for your assistance, Dean thought, shooting a look of disbelief behind him, slightly lessening his glare when he saw the bags under his brother's eyes. He was just as tired.</p><p>“Oh- OH! I am sorry,” the man nods quickly, realizing he put himself in an awkward situation. His wince was apologetic and he admitted, “Well...I’m out of rooms with double beds. I have two rooms right next to each other though? Does that work? Or I can get a cot-”</p><p>Cot was one of Dean's no words. Absolutely not. “Two rooms work,” he sighs in annoyance, pulling out one of their fake credit cards and sliding it across the counter. </p><p>The man handed Dean their keys a second later and they walked out the door, Sam dropping back so Dean could exit first. The cold wind picked up as they made their way down the pavement walkway to the end of the motel, shouldering their bags.</p><p>“Why do these people keep assuming we’re gay?” Dean demanded randomly once they were out of ear shot. </p><p>Sam shrugged and a smirk crept onto his face, “Well you are kind of butch, they probably think you’re overcompensating.”</p><p>Dean shot him a look of absolute death before tossing his brother his key over his shoulder when they both slowed to a stop at the end of the line of rooms. Dean tapped Sam’s door which had a dark smear by the number and grinned wickedly, “You get the room with the smudge on it.” </p><p>Sam caught the small key with one hand and rolled his eyes with a snort, "Oh, I'm devastated, you really got me."</p><p>"Shut up, I'm tired," Dean growled, unlocking his door. He entered his own room after his brother disappeared inside his. Setting his bag down on the table, he shrugged off his jacket, tossing it over his duffel, which he took his knife out of, flipping it around his fingers. </p><p>“Hi beautiful,” Dean mumbled sleepily to the bed he was approaching, dropping his keys on the bedside table as he flopped down onto the creaky mattress, slipping the knife under his pillow. He was just about to close his eyes when there was a knock on his door. </p><p>Cursing inwardly, Dean groaned, his face shoved so deep in the pillow he could barely breathe but he really didn't care. He shouted, “Pick the lock. I’m not getting up.” Opening one eye, he heard his younger brother sigh and no doubt pull out the pick he always kept in his left pocket. </p><p>“Seriously?”</p><p>The door opened after a second, the lock clicking triumphantly and Dean groaned again before forcing himself to look up at his younger brother who had entered the room. "What do you want?"</p><p>Sam, who was standing in the middle of the room, made a face, his gaze falling to Dean's mud covered boots. He pointed and scoffed, “Dude, <em>at least</em> take off your shoes.” </p><p>“Did I ask?” Dean grumbled in retaliation, rolling over and squinting at his brother, rubbing sleep from his eye. “Go catch some Z's. We’ll grab breakfast before we go, I saw a sign for a fast food in...that...direction,” he pointed vaguely before sinking back down onto the bed. </p><p>Sam nodded so analytically, like he needed a gross thing called a plan. Now watch, Dean thought, he's gonna ask what time they're gonna wake up. He nearly mouthed the words that his brother said next, “Okay, so wake up at 7:30?”</p><p>"Yep, and then if you must know, I'll probably take a leak at 7:33-" Dean supplied helpfully. </p><p>Sam, who was used to the older hunter berating him about wanting a schedule, waved his hand, "Yeah, okay, you made your point."</p><p>Dean huffed in satisfaction, looking at the clock with the harsh red numbers that were not to his liking. He made a face and sighed, “Good, I'm glad. Now get out, I want to sleep.” </p><p>“Alright.” Sam nodded and turned to walk back to the door. </p><p>“Wait, that's it? I want my five minutes back,” Dean joked, although he didn’t mind as much as he let on. </p><p>Sam made a face of annoyance, rolling his eyes, “Night Dean.” </p><p>“Great, now I have to lock it,” Dean sighed very loudly, swinging his legs off the bed and following his brother to the door, kicking off his shoes as he did just to please the younger Winchester. </p><p>“Serves you right after you make me pick the dang lock,” Sam sneers, about to leave.</p><p>“Sammy,” Dean called honestly and Sam stopped in confusion at the tone he rarely heard, turning around cautiously as he opened the door to his room. Dean put on a face of innocence as he leaned out towards his sibling. “You sure you’re okay with this? I don’t need to come over there and check under the bed do I?” He reached to put his hand on Sam’s shoulder mockingly, a smile starting to form and reveal his ploy, “Or for any monsters in your closet?"</p><p>Sam was already whacking his hand off, making Dean almost fall forward. "Don't worry, I'm a big boy now," he sneered. The older brother straightened with a laugh and Sam closed the door with a firm, “You’re an idiot.”</p><p>Dean smiled as he retreated back into his room and locked the door. Smiling at the mattress, he collapsed onto his bed again, snuggling into the covers and smothering his face in his pillow, his other hand closing around his knife. He hadn’t slept in his own room….almost ever. It was nice for a change. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “Sam!” Dean yells in relief, seeing his brother standing a ways away with his back turned to him. At the sound of his voice Sam whips around, clutching his arm, staggering in exhaustion. Oh God, he was hurt. But the relief and happiness outweighed his fear. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> The older Winchester's shoulders ease as his brother's voice yells back, “Dean!”  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Dean grips his flashlight harder, a smile breaking out on his face as he picks up his pace. Then his gaze is torn away and he sees the man on the ground wake, grabbing something submerged in the mud as he lunges forward with incredible speed. Dean’s heart stops as he sees it glint in the moonlight.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Sam! Look out!” he yells, jogging- running- sprinting forward, gaining speed faster than it takes him to blink.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> He doesn't blink. He sees the whole thing. Sam doesn’t turn fast enough and Dean feels the knife as if he had been the one stabbed. The man digs it into his little brother’s back and Sam’s teeth clench, his hand falling to the side as he looks up and gasps in pain.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “NO!” Dean screams, tearing off towards them, his legs kicking up mud. The man twists the knife in Sam’s back and Dean runs faster as Sam cries out again in pain, choking, as his knees buckle. The man pulls out the knife and starts running away but Dean has eyes only for his brother.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “No-” He slides in the mud, diving to Sam’s aid and catching the sides of his jacket as Bobby sprints after the man, shotgun in hand. Dean grips Sam’s shirt in his fist, his voice commanding as he tries to comfort him, “Sam!” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> His younger brother falls forward onto Dean’s shoulder and it sends a shiver down his spine, Sam’s chin bumping against his neck. He tries to support him, pushing him back upright and muttering, “Woah, woah, woah, Sam. Sam! Hey! Hey, hey, come here,” he says, trying to keep his voice from shaking.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Let me look at you,” he says quietly, his usually gruff voice being drowned in both panic and despair. He lets Sam fall against his chest, his brother’s head heavy on his shoulder. Dean wraps his arms around him and presses his hand against Sam’s back. His shaking hand touches the wound, and Dean gulps, closing his eyes as he feels hot liquid trail over his fingers. He pulls it away and his entire palm is covered in blood. His heart shatters and plummets, hitting the bottom of his gut.</em>
</p><p>
  <em> He ducks his head out from under his brother’s chin, hoisting Sam up some more by his collar. Dean forces a smile, looking into his eyes- eyes that are unfocused and full of pain and fear as they try and stare back at him but fail, rolling in his head. He grits his teeth but tries not to make it sound like it, trying to force enthusiasm into his voice that sounds dead and broken, “Hey, look at me. It’s not even that bad. It’s not even that bad, all right?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Sam’s gaze falters and his eyes start to close and Dean looks him up and down, speaking sharply, “Sammy? Sam!”  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Dean’s grip on his brother’s collar tightens but Sam’s head wobbles, falling to his chest whenever Dean doesn’t hold it up. “Hey, listen to me,” the older hunter says gently. “We’re gonna patch you up, ok? You’ll be good as new. Huh?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> He maintains his grip on Sam’s collar with one hand before he runs the other hand in Sam’s hair, cupping his brother’s cheek to raise his head, still trying to smile. Sam’s eyes are unfocused as Dean touches his face, desperately begging him to stay conscious.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “I’m gonna take care of you. I’ve got you. That’s my job right?” Dean tries to laugh but it comes out as a sob. Sam’s head falls heavy against the hand he has on the side of his head and Dean desperately tries to push it back up because he won’t accept this. He won’t. It’s his job to keep him safe, he has to make sure Sam knows that- “Watch out for my pain-in-the-ass little brother?”  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Dean clasps Sam’s neck, his thumb rubbing Sam’s cheek, his gaze going slack, “Sam?” He shouts. No response. Panic fills dean’s chest and his voice grows louder, “Sam! Sam! Sammy!” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Sam’s eyes slide shut and his entire body slumps forward as Dean catches him against his chest. This time he can’t find the strength to push him back up because deep down...he knows… </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Dean’s voice is shaking, his lungs tight as he pleads, “No. No, no, no, no, no, no- Oh God-” Dean’s face breaks and crumples, squeezing his eyes shut as he desperately pulls his younger brother closer to his chest, closer and tighter than he ever has. He slips his hand on the back of Sam’s head and clutches around his curls, wrapping his arms around his brother. A tear slides down his face.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> He grips the back of Sam’s jacket and tugs him forward as he curls his fists. Dean rocks him in shock and horror, tears welling in his eyes as he sinks lower in the mud and tries to pull Sam even closer as if that will somehow bring him back to life. “Oh, God.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Despair and fear build in his empty chest and his hands tighten around Sam’s jacket. Dean grits his teeth and screams his brother’s name, knowing there will be no answer as tears fill his eyes.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “SAM!”  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>The older Winchester bolts awake, grabbing the knife under his pillow as he practically falls off the bed. He’s almost hyperventilating and he feels something wet trickle down his cheek. Dean furiously wipes his face and gets to his feet angrily shoving the sheet that was twisted around his legs away, his hands shaking as he gripped his weapon. </p><p>He looks over at the other corner of the room, like he always used to do whenever he had a nightmare, before he realizes Sam isn’t there. Usually, when he had a nightmare that involved his brother and he bolted awake, he could look over, see Sam's chest rising and falling in the bed next to him and Dean could calm down. He never went back to sleep, but it was reassuring knowing that he could stay up, see he was still breathing, and more importantly, protect him. Of course, he would never tell Sam that.</p><p>Dean paced for a bit, gripping his knife in his hand, but his lungs only got tighter with every passing second. The hunter grit his teeth and clenched his hands for a little bit more, looking at the wall that led to Sam’s room, before he snarled and hissed, “Screw it.”</p><p>He stormed forward, grabbed his pick from his jacket pocket and wrenched open his door. Dean stepped out, shutting his door before going over to Sam’s room, bending by the lock. After a second of fiddling, it clicked open and Dean stepped in silently, letting the door close behind him with a small thud. </p><p>Looking ahead, he saw Sam asleep, his hand under his pillow, probably holding a knife like Dean had taught him. Relief washed over him and the older brother steadied his breathing once he watched Sam's chest rise and fall a couple times. Dean ran a hand over his face and looked down with a shake of his head, cursing himself. </p><p><em> Just a dream, </em> he told himself firmly. <em> Again. </em>But he could never be too careful. There was not a time he had a nightmare where he wouldn’t walk through fire to make sure his younger brother wasn’t hurt. Dean had watched him get hurt one too many times- he refused to do it again if there was something he could do about it. </p><p>Dean looked at the clock and squinted. There were three hours before they were supposed to be up and moving. He took a deep breath and turned around, reaching for the knob when suddenly he winced, squeezing his eyes shut as his ears rang. Dean froze.</p><p>
  <em> “SAM!” </em>
</p><p>Dean flinched at the terror in his voice that pounded in his ears, his breathing shaky. It echoed, and that was enough to send him over the edge, skin crawling, every fiber in his body telling him to stay. After a second, he looked guiltily over his shoulder at his brother. Without another word or thought, he walked back and lowered himself to the floor next to Sam’s bed, already feeling more at ease. Just for a bit. Just stay here for a bit, just to make sure. His eyes closed and Dean fell into a light sleep, clutching the knife dangerously in his hand. It was as quick and simple as that.</p><p> </p><p>Sam rolled over, slamming his palm into the alarm that beeped loudly. He rubbed his eye and yawned, before he started to swing his legs over the side of the bed. Then he stopped, and good thing too. </p><p>His older brother was asleep on the floor, knife clutched to his chest, positioned protectively between Sam’s bed and the door. Sam stared at him for a second in confusion, blinking, trying to figure out why in the heck Dean would be on the floor. He gave up and finally nudged him in the shoulder with his foot. </p><p>“Dean,” Sam said sleepily, rubbing his eye. He kicked him again, harder this time, and spoke louder, “Dean?”</p><p>His older brother snorted as he awoke and Dean blinked. For a second, his expression was flooded with relief as he made eye contact but of course he covered it up and groaned in annoyance, “What? I’m up, I’m up, get off-” The older Winchester smacked Sam’s foot that was prodding him in the shoulder and then sat up, cracking his neck with a wince and flexing his shoulder. </p><p>Sam laughed and asked the million dollar question, “Dude, what are you doing?”</p><p>“What do you mean what am I doing?” Dean demanded groggily, running a hand through his spiky bed head. </p><p>Sam raised an eyebrow and pursed his lips before saying simply, “Hm...let's see, you were sleeping on the floor of my room?” </p><p>“Oh, yeah-” Dean got to his feet. Like oh yeah, that.</p><p>Sam suppressed a smile and asked seriously, nodding towards the knife. "Was there a monster under <em>your </em>bed?"</p><p>"Bite me." His brother arched his back with a sigh, grabbing Sam’s pillow and whacking him in the face with it with one solid motion, explaining, “My neighbors were too loud. But you should really go into comedy.” Sam launched the pillow in retaliation as his older brother walked to the door.</p><p>It hit him in the back and Dean tossed it on the nearby table, smirking, “Don’t throw a temper tantrum. You're lucky I didn't make <em>you</em> sleep on the floor. Dang, that's hell on my back. Worse than a cot. Should have taken a cot," he mumbles to himself. "Anyway, out the door in ten, sleeping beauty.”</p><p>“Yeah, since when did you care about deadlines?” Sam scowled, combing his hand through his brown mop as Dean, who never answered his question, walked out and returned to his room, slipping his knife into his jeans. </p><p>Ten minutes later, he opens his door, buttoning his suit and tucking his FBI badge into his chest pocket. Dean walks out beside him, slipping his key into his pocket. “Morning sunshine,” the older hunter comments with a grin. </p><p>“You sleep any? Besides when you crashed on the floor?” Sam smirks, locking his door as well before he follows Dean to the Impala. </p><p>“Yeah, a couple hours," Dean scratched his neck. "I’m telling you man, those people next to me would not shut up,” he grumbled, pointing at the door next to his. “I should have made us switch rooms but that would have got you all pissy and God knows," his brother paused for the sole reason of dramatic effect, "I don’t want to deal with a pissy Sam Winchester.”</p><p>"Uh huh." Sam slipped into the passenger’s seat, pulling out his phone as Dean winked, turning over the car and looking behind him as he pulled out of the parking lot. Sam didn’t mention it but he looked up from his notes on the case that he was scrolling through when saw a new couple stop at the room next to Dean’s. They opened the door and went in with suitcases and Sam looked over at his brother. Neighbors, huh?</p><p>Dean eventually noticed him staring and made a face as he spun the wheel, pressing the gas as they drove down the road, “What?”</p><p>Sam chuckled to himself and shook his head, carding a hand through his messy curls and smirking, “Nothing.”</p><p>Dean narrows his eyes and glances at his hair in distaste, "You need a haircut."</p><p>"You know what, Dean?" Sam swears angrily, turning in his seat with curled fists.</p><p>Dean cranks up the music and grins cockily, shouting, "What? I can't hear you, the music's too loud!"</p><p>Sam grumbles, "I hate you," leaning down to grab the folder he had stored near his feet.</p><p>His brother looks over with a wide smile and hits him, not so lightly, in the chest. "I know you do."</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>coffee i reiterate, is amazing. Sleep doesnt make sense to me tho. ANYWAY hope everyone is doing well and staying sane in school! New chap posted soon :)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. It Was The Heat of the Moment</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I’m v proud of myself I posted this on my phone XD this one is a short one and it’s got season 3 spoiler cuz of the mystery spot song<br/>Hope everyone is doing well during this hectic time! stay healthyyyyy and enjoy :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Ok, so we’ve got thirty minutes to make it to whose house?” Dean waved his hand. </p><p>“Alysha James,” Sam said, shuffling through the notes in his grip. “She was a witness to two of the three murders.”</p><p>“So whatever killed those people obviously had a good reason for not ganking her,” Dean nodded, before looking over at him. “Or, and this is the more likely scenario, she’s involved in this mess.”</p><p>“Exactly,” Sam nodded, setting the notes down in his lap.</p><p>Dean nods, “Sounds good, but first, food.”</p><p>Sam grins and a five minutes later, they pull into the parking lot of a local diner. A couple minutes after that, Sam looked up and sees Dean walking towards the car with a huge grin on his face, carrying a big bag and a cardboard drink holder. He slid into the driver’s seat and tossed the bag into Sam’s lap, already taking a sip from his drink. </p><p>“They had pie,” Dean said happily, pushing past Sam’s hands and grabbing his sandwich and pie out of the bag. Sam scoffed, realizing he was used as a tray for the moment being. He waited until Dean was chowing down to deem it safe to get out his own food. </p><p>He pulls out his spinach wrap his brother had got him, peeling the wrapper away. Sam rolls his eyes as Dean opened a beer and he questions, “For breakfast? Dude.” </p><p>Dean looks over, scoffing back with a mouth full of food, “What?”</p><p>“Nothing,” Sam laughs, shaking his head.</p><p>“I hope you know it physically pained me to order that spinach piece of crap you like,” Dean grumbled, motioning forward in disgust. He rummaged through the bag again, Sam sighing in annoyance as his brother took out another container. Dean’s eyes went huge and he grinned, forking off a piece of pie and smacking his lips. </p><p>Sam smirked, shaking his head and returning to his omelet. </p><p>“This is the life,” the older Winchester decided. “I got pie, beer, a bacon egg and cheese, my baby and my baby brother? All that’s missing is some music.” Dean reached over and turned on the radio and when he did Sam froze. </p><p>
  <em> “It was the heat of the moment, telling me what your heart meant. The heat of the moment, showed in your eyes-” </em>
</p><p>Dean laughed through his food and looked over at Sam with a grin, “Dude, mystery spot. Rise and shine Sammy!”</p><p>Sam met his eyes and Dean instantly cut his smile in concern and realization, turning off the music. His voice instantly changed, “Hey, dude, it’s ok. Nothing’s gonna happen to me.” </p><p>Sam swallowed, “Yeah.” </p><p>Dean set down his food to made eye contact with him. The joking tone was back and Dean smirked, hitting him on the shoulder, making his younger brother wince a little. “No tacos, no piano, no car, no dog, no-” </p><p>He saw the look on Sam’s face and put up his hands in surrender “I’ll stop.”</p><p>“Thanks,” Sam said through gritted teeth, looking through the front dash as he tried to slow his heart which was beating out of his chest, mind flooded with horrible memories. </p><p>Then the older Winchester spoke again. “You know what though? You did kill me. With the axe? I never thought about that-“ Dean rubbed his chin. </p><p>Sam looks over in disbelief, eyes wide as he defends himself miserably, guilt pressing down on his shoulders, “It was an accident! And it was partially your fault-“</p><p>”I know but still I think I could should hold that over you-“ Dean snorts happily.</p><p>Sam glances down, curling his fists and trying to take a deep breath, remembering the eternity he had spent without his brother, and the many times he had held him in his arms, shouting his name, begging him to wake up- </p><p>Dean’s smirk falls away for good and his big brother instinct kicks in, grabbing Sam’s shoulder after closing his pie and putting it on the dash. “Okay, not the best timing. My bad. I’ll hold it over you later, hey- Sammy?”</p><p>”Yeah,” Sam says, clenching his teeth hard.</p><p>“I’m safe,” Dean insisted. “I’m here annoying you, right?” He hits him on the arm. “You’re kinda stuck with me, so get over it.”</p><p>Sam exhaled sharply, wrapping up his breakfast and shoving it back into the bag at his feet, “Yeah.”</p><p>“Sam,” Dean said seriously, reaching up and pushing him lightly in the head, “Hey, Sammy, look at me, man.” Sam looked over slowly. He was shaking only slightly, and he quickly stuck his hand in his jacket pocket.  </p><p>His brother is grinning, shoving a fork in his face and wiggling his eyebrows. “That was a long time ago. Eat some pie.”</p><p>“Yeah,” Sam said more firmly, taking a deep breath, smacking Dean’s arm away before returning his hand to his pocket.</p><p>“Is that all you’re gonna say?” Dean sighed, bringing the fork back to Sam’s face. “Yeah?”</p><p>Sam looked over and blinked, managing a small smile, the perfect answer in his head that Dean had set up unknowingly.  “Yeah.”</p><p>Dean rolled his eyes in annoyance and ate the forkful of pie Sam had declined before he spoke through a mouthful, “Also, I don’t care what you say, that day I got you to say that you wear makeup, cry through sex, and keep a ruler by your bed so that every morning when you wake up-”</p><p>“Ok, Dean, got it. Thank you,” Sam shook his head with a small smile. “I’m glad you had fun.”</p><p>“Fun isn’t exactly the right word,” Dean admitted. “Seeing you distressed 24/7 was not fun,” he said before he added quickly, “You’re a pain when you get upset.” </p><p>“Shut up,” Sam scoffed. </p><p>“Proving my point.” Dean reached over and grabbed Sam’s wrapped up food, tossing it back into his lap and giving him a nod, “Okay, you need to cuddle or something or are you good?”</p><p>Sam shoots him a look and grumbles, “I’m fine.”</p><p>”You sure? I got some tissues and chocolate in the back,” Dean manages to keep a straight face.</p><p>Sam rubs a hand over his forehead and attempts a joke to cover up the pain that’s eating at him in his gut, “Drive please, before I kill you again.” </p><p>Dean smiles triumphantly and puts the car in drive, pointing to the food he had thrown at Sam a couple minutes ago. “Eat your spinach crap. We got 10 minutes.”</p><p>Sam took a few more bites, only because he saw Dean looking over in concern every couple of seconds after he changed the channel to something that wasn’t Asia.</p><p>And Dean made a mental note to take the Asia cassette tape out of the glove compartment. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Ya Yeet. Next one will be longer and probs my favorite lol<br/>Hope you liked it!! Have an awesome day everyoneeeee</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Saturday Night’s Alright</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Because I have no timeline for posting I was like what the heck I’ll post one tonight XD hope u like it this one is def one of my favs :) please enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Let’s heighten the stakes, shall we?” Dean asked nonchalantly, chalking his stick with a cocky smile on his face as he sauntered around the pool table. </p><p>The man he was playing against pulled out his wallet and slapped some money down on the table.</p><p>“Let’s,” he responded cooley and his friends behind him leaned back against the table, eyeing Dean as they guzzled their beers. </p><p>“Let me guess,” Dean said, waltzing over to take his mark, snapping his elbows as he steadied the stick and lined up his shot, turning the wood in between his fingers. “You look like a...Ben? Alex? Some sort of common name? Nothing fancy.”</p><p>“Jack,” the man said curtly, already fuming. Dean had gotten good at hustling at pool over the years but also at getting under people’s skin. If they were playing emotionally, it meant they were losing.</p><p>The hunter looked up and grinned, jerking his stick forward without looking, feeling the rough wood slide along his index finger. The cue ball smacked into his striped one and sent it straight into the hole on the other side of the table. “I was right,” he announced as he straightened, cracking his neck.</p><p>“Yeah,” Jack sneered, not happy about the shot the older Winchester had just made. “And you’re a cocky bastard.”</p><p>“Is that a compliment?” Dean asked with a twinge of a smile. </p><p>Jack nodded, taking a finger off the beer bottle he was nursing to point at him, “It’s smart. You’re cocky because your reputation won’t be ruined when you lose. You’re not from around here, are you?”</p><p>“Nah,” Dean said, squinting one eye shut as he dug his feet into the floor and lined up another shot. He made it with ease, smirking as his ball sank into the far pocket.</p><p>Dean stretched, taking a sip from his beer, “You’re lucky I’m not. And I’m leaving town soon, so when I beat you,” he took another gulp, finishing off his drink, “all the evidence will be gone.”</p><p>“Yeah, we’ll see about that,” Jack said firmly, his eyes narrowed as Dean lined up for the final move, taking a shot at the eight ball that was lined up perfectly for the last hole. </p><p>Just as he winked and shot for the corner pocket, one of Jack’s buddies bumped the table and Dean’s shot hit the edge, spiraling off. Dean’s smile immediately fell as he curled his hand around his stick and dropped his head to his chest.</p><p>There were a few whistles from some of the bystanders and his opponent’s buddies chuckled. Jack crossed his arms as Dean straightened, a controlled anger on his face. </p><p>“So you win by cheating?” Dean nodded, licking his lips and opening a beer he had set aside. He gives Jack a fake smile and raises his open bottle in his direction, “You should be proud of yourself.”</p><p>“Whatever pays the bills, my friend.” Jack clapped Dean on the shoulder as he walked by, chalking his stick. Dean scowled at the touch and shook him off, stepping aside as Jack lined up his shot and tapped his stick forward ever so slightly. Dean looked back down at the table and saw the cue ball was now lined up right behind one of Jack’s solids, blocking his direct shot at the black eight to win the game. </p><p>“Your move,” Jack mocked with a big smile, tone light and taunting. When he passed, he jabbed his shoulder into Dean’s chest. </p><p>Dean took a breath, surveying the table as he thoughtfully drank his beer. Then he rolled up his sleeves and circled the table, bending his knees and leaning over the ball with his stick facing the ceiling, preparing for a chip shot. His eyes narrowed in concentration and he exhaled slowly.</p><p>“Double or nothing you miss that shot,” Jack said quickly, taking a swig of his beer, winking at him, but Dean saw the flash of anger in his eyes.</p><p>Dean looked up with a grin on his face, “You tryin’ to hustle me now Jackie?”</p><p>“I thought you were gonna beat me, Deano?” Jack recalls, the taunting manner gone from his tone. It’s quickly strangled by pure anger, which Dean combats with a flashy smile. </p><p>“Alright,” he sighs, setting himself up and twisting the stick ever so slightly. Dean sucks in a breath as he flicks his wrist down. The cue ball jumps over the solid and slides smoothly into the eight that tumbles into the pocket. A couple cheers come from the bystanders, and some more whistling, but Jack and his friends are silent and fuming. </p><p>Dean sets his stick down in triumph, raising his beer to the people cheering for him, eyes gleaming. He then goes over to grab the money at the center of the table, reaching forward as he announces, “Well gentlemen, it was mighty fine playing with you-”</p><p>Jack’s hand closes over his wrist. Silence spreads like fog. The older Winchester ducks his head down with a long sigh before he looks up and cocks his head at the man who put his hand on the victorious hunter, “You really want to do that buddy? Come on, you gave it your best shot.”</p><p>“I’m keeping my money,” Jack snarls, still not letting go of Dean’s wrist.</p><p>“Just cause’ you suck at pool?” Dean asks with a smile. “That’s no way to live.”</p><p>With that, Jack swings his other fist and Dean catches it while keeping eye contact, his gaze dark and dangerous. “Was that your best shot?” He snickers, cocking his head and puffing up his chest. </p><p>Suddenly a fist flies at him from the side and Dean's head is snapped back as one of Jack's buddies gets in on the action. Dean growls, tasting blood. He twists his wrist free of Jack’s grip and throws a punch of his own before he drives his heel into the other man’s gut. </p><p>Someone grabs him from behind and Dean kicks up and pushes off the table, sending the man stumbling back. Dean rolls as he falls and gets to his feet, only to have no choice but to brace as he’s tackled around the waist. His side hits the pool table hard and Dean groans, grasping for his beer that had tumbled off the lip a foot away. His fingers curl around it and he swings, sending it crashing down on the man’s head. The bottle shatters, glass scattering the floor and the man charging at him slips, giving Dean the perfect opportunity to plant a foot in his gut, sending him crashing to the ground. Dean, who’s half on the pool table, slides to the ground, releasing his grip on the sides.</p><p>He ducks a hit from the side and pushes the man past him before he’s yanked up by the back of his collar from someone who had looped around behind him. A flare of anger goes through his head; he could easily take these guys, just not this many all at once. Numbers always made things difficult and these guys weren't pulling their punches. Dean reels, throwing his elbow back. He grins, feeling it connect with a crunch, and easily blocks a second hit, which leaves him exposed. He gets a fist to the face by yet another one of Jack’s friends. They’re in a circle around him now as blood pours from his nose and Dean staggers backward, hitting his head against the wall with a grunt. </p><p>A hand grabs the front of his shirt and he sees it’s Jack. He grins through a split lip, “Hey Jackie. You’re being...a bad sport…” he makes out with a sluggish grin. </p><p>Jack knees him in the side and Dean groans, feeling a rib or two bust. He lunges forward but his hands are held behind him as one of his buddies twists his wrists. Dean’s knees buckle slightly as Jack slams his fist across his face again. The hunter’s head snapped to the side and he groans, blood dripping off his jaw, his lungs tight with pain as he attempts to get to his feet, avoiding the next punch and slamming the man holding him backward into the wall, launching his head back into his chin. Dean staggers warily, weakly putting up his fists, covered in blood and swaying only slightly. His vision is bobbing and weaving but he manages to stay on his feet with a cocky grin that radiates the sentence “bring it on”. Dean Winchester was not one to give up. Even when he should. </p><p>“HEY!”</p><p>Dean looks up groggily and sees a man- a very tall man- his brother actually. He’s surprised that voice even came from him.</p><p>Sammy is striding forward with a look in his eyes that goes unmatched, despite the amount of anger clouding the room. His brown eyes almost look red and Dean slumps in relief, slightly shocked that those puppy eyes could get so furious. Sam swings his fist hard against Jack’s face before he can even react and his head whips to the side, dropping instantly from the amount of force behind that hit. </p><p>Sam strikes his heel into the man who runs at him, before slamming his head into his waiting knee. Dean grits his teeth and locks his knees, instilled with adrenaline courtesy of his baby brother, twisting out of the grip on his arms. The man behind him is not beaten up, so he’s much quicker, and after successfully blocking the first hit, Dean feels an elbow come crashing into the side of his head before he can duck. </p><p>Dean moves back, putting up his fists as the dude advances. The man has got at least a foot on him and maybe 100 pounds. Dean gives him a weak smile, socking him once across the face which does close to nothing except take out a tooth which the man spits to the floor. </p><p>Sam suddenly comes in from out of nowhere like a blur, tackling Jack’s friend across the waist. The younger Winchester had the momentum and the endurance, slamming him into a table that promptly flips over. Sam rolls away faster than anyone expected and is up and curling his hand into a fist. The young hunter ducks a weak swipe and slams a nasty uppercut into another guy’s jaw.</p><p>Someone attempts to tackle Sam who promptly flips him over his shoulder and sidesteps the next. Glasses shatter, chairs are thrown, and people jump at his brother who fights with such skill and ease it almost scares him.</p><p>Dean stands, getting his bearings, ready to fight again, and he lands three punches to the men trying to get up from the ground, effectively knocking them all out. He looks at his bloody knuckles and then glances towards the remaining commotion; Sam blocking and punching, flipping tables- anything to keep the men away from Dean. After Sam gets punched in the face and barely flinches, throwing his own punch back which knocks the man unconscious, he sends the last of Jack’s friends into a wall. That’s when his shoulders relax and breathing hard, he turns to look at his older brother. Despite being turned around in the fight, Sam knows exactly where Dean is. They make eye contact for a split second before Dean sees a blurry shape over his brother’s tall shoulder. </p><p>“S’my-” he murmurs urgently, raising a finger to point. </p><p>It takes a quarter of a second for Sam to focus on Dean’s gaze and less than that to know what he was saying. He moved quickly to the side and the beer bottle that Jack swung caught him in the shoulder instead of the head. Sam hissed in pain as the glass ripped his skin when it shattered. He was quick to retaliate, throwing his elbow back. Dean winces for Jack at that ruthless hit but Sam wasn’t done. Jack throws a punch and hits Sam weakly in the chest and his younger brother doesn’t even react. He grabs Jack’s shirt and slams him into the pool table. </p><p>“Don’t touch my brother,” Sam snarled, punching Jack hard across the jaw, knocking him out and possibly breaking a bone.</p><p>Sam gets off him and the man slides to the floor with a groan, hand over his face. That’s when the younger Winchester turns to face Dean. His gaze is still fierce and Dean gives him a weak smile and waves. </p><p>Without a word, his younger brother shakes his head and crosses the room. The nearest bartender is staring at him and the people who are in his way part immediately as Sam limps slightly and reaches the bar, slapping down a twenty.</p><p>“Sorry bout the mess.”<br/>Then he makes his way over and fists Dean’s jacket, looping his arm over his shoulder as he pulls him, not too gently, towards the exit. "You idiot."</p><p>“Sammy, I get all tingly when you take control like that,” Dean slurs out a joke, the young hunter supporting his older sibling as they limp forward. </p><p>“Shut up.” His younger brother helps him stagger down the steps of the bar, breathing hard, before he shoves him into the passenger seat of the Impala, looping around to the driver’s side, digging the key out of Dean’s front pocket which the older Winchester of course makes a joke about. Sam does not laugh.</p><p>Dean does, and then slumps in his seat, wiping blood from his nose with a loud sigh, cracking his jaw. </p><p>Sam is fuming as he starts the car, puts it in reverse, spins the wheel, slams the stick forward, and drives out of the parking lot, his expression hard to read because of the anger. His eyes bore into the road ahead of him as he drove down the street back to the hotel. </p><p>A couple minutes later, Dean finds his voice, but doesn’t really think before he blurts out, “You ripped my shirt.” He picked at the frayed fabric and looked up. Sam’s grab hadn’t been gentle and it hadn’t helped that he sort of fell into his younger brother now that he thought about it. His grip had ripped his shirt, and Dean pouted his lower lip in sadness.  </p><p>His brother spins his head with an expression that makes him smirk despite the tone that follows, “Are you kidding me, Dean? You’re <em>welcome. </em>” </p><p>Dean snickers and Sam looks back at him again after a second of staring at the empty road, no doubt to calm himself down. The younger Winchester shakes his head, “You want to laugh about it, that’s fine, but you got your butt kicked in there.”</p><p>“Just having some fun Sammy,” Dean says, settling down in his seat with a groan, scratching off dried blood from his cheek and rubbing it on his jeans. “We are allowed to have fun, you know.”</p><p>“That’s your version of fun?” Sam scoffs. “You look like you went ten rounds with a block of cement.”</p><p>Dean winces as he rubs his jaw, and he can’t hide the groan he lets out while responding, “One hundred percent.”</p><p>Sam looks over and sighs. He can’t help but ask through a mumble, “You ok?”</p><p>Dean gives him a sloppy grin and a wink, “Peachy.” He knew his brother, who would always be the more sensitive one, had to be the caring person he was on the mushy gushy inside.</p><p>“What did you do anyway?” Sam asks in annoyance, twisting his hands on the wheel. He was gonna be really pissed if Dean had started the fight. He would have still gone in there and beat them to a pulp, but it better have been for a good reason.</p><p>Dean scoffs and whines, “I played pool. They were just a bunch of sore losers.”</p><p>“Well I think you’ll be just as sore tomorrow,” Sam snaps back, looking his older brother over again for any major injuries. When he was satisfied he sighed again in exasperation, but was clearly relieved.</p><p>“First off, that’s what she said. Second, I could say the same thing about them,” Dean points out, remembering the red in his brother’s eyes when he stormed forward and the way he didn’t hold back his punches- not even a little bit. “What was that beast mode in there, huh? Usually that’s my thing. You’re always the damsel in distress,” he says, raising an eyebrow and looking at Sam out of the corner of his eye since he didn’t feel like turning his head. His neck hurt.</p><p>When Sam didn’t answer, he pressed some more, “I gotta give you credit. That look you gave them could have made me wet my pants if I had drank more beer.”</p><p>“That ‘look’ was me, saving you from getting your head bashed in,” Sam said, his lips pursed, his hands clenched around the steering wheel. “You’re welcome,” he added saltily. “You would have been killed if I wasn’t there.”</p><p>“Don’t expect a thank you note and chocolates on your bed tomorrow, Sammy. I had it all under control-” Dean slurs sarcastically, yanking on the seatbelt in boredom. </p><p>“Don’t even-” Sam swears furiously, almost swerving on the road. </p><p>“Kidding! Kidding,” Dean croaks out, scrunching up his nose as he repositions himself in the seat, trying to get comfortable with his bruised tailbone. “Remind me to never get on your bad side.”</p><p>“Yeah well...they deserved it,” Sam said firmly. “They weren’t about to get one more punch in. Not on my watch.”</p><p>Dean pauses at the familiar protectiveness in his voice that usually came from the older Winchester’s mouth. He looks over, his brow furrowed, and says slowly, “You know, I am older.”</p><p>“Yeah, you are, but obviously not smarter,” Sam sighs, and that apparently settles the conversation. </p><p>Truth be told, Dean was proud. <em>He </em>had always been the one to protect Sam, to save him, to beat up bullies that dared mess with Dean Winchester’s little brother or throw an arm across his chest to shield him. He would do anything for Sam, so seeing that fury in his younger brother’s eyes reminded him of the same fury he was capable of when someone hurt the one person he would take a bullet for. It was comforting to know his brother would go to the same lengths for him as Dean would, although the older hunter would never admit it. Ever.</p><p>Then he groaned and Sam instantly spun in concern, reaching a hand out to clasp his shoulder and then turn his chin and look for an injury he might have missed. His voice was panicked, “What? You ok?”</p><p>The older Winchester slapped his hand off, parrying his attempts of brotherly love. Gross. “No, I’m not ok,” Dean exclaimed sadly, crossing his arms and slumping in his seat after rubbing his hair.</p><p>“Well what is it?” Sam demanded with wide eyes.</p><p>“I left my beer and my money.”</p><p>The fury that came from the silent man next to him almost made him laugh until he saw the expression he had caused to appear on his brother’s face. “I will make you walk if you say another word,” Sam threatened through gritted teeth and narrowed eyes. </p><p>Dean knew he was kidding, but he still grinned and obeyed the order, settled down in the seat and started snoring the minute Sam put in one of his Metallica tapes, the pain slowly ebbing away.</p><p>”Thanks Sammy,” he said quietly, closing his eyes. </p><p>“You’re welcome, Dean.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hope you liked it :))) thank u to those who read and to those who commented! I’m glad ur liking this so far! Stay healthy everyone &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. It's Just a Flesh Wound</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Heyooooo awesome readers<br/>heres another one for yaaa hope you like it its short and sweet lol<br/>update on my life coffee is great and school sucks :) BUT!!! Episode tonight and although the promo was kinda bland im still excited. IGHT ill shut up haha<br/>Carry on! i crack myself up</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>"So you check out her house and I'll hit the library," Sam said as they jogged down the steps. The wind was cold and it ruffled the leaves on the trees lining the walkway. They were a red and orange array, and a couple of them spun on the ground like his thoughts in his head. He tried to straighten out his hair as they made their way to the parking lot. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His brother smacked his arm, "You look like an idiot."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam turned to him during his long stride, "You tell me that all the time, why should I care now?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean laughs, patting Sam on the shoulder as they step off the curb and walk to the sleek, black, Chevy Impala waiting for them, “Hey remember that time when we were working that case back in-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Back where?” Sam asks, smiling at his brother’s loud chuckle before he stops and turns around; Dean decided to suddenly stop in his tracks. The older Winchester's words came to a halt as well, his feet skidding on the pavement as his eyes shot open wide and his hands curled into fists. Dean’s jaw dropped open, pure horror painted on his face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” Sam asks nonchalantly with a slight twinge of confusion, before he realizes Dean isn’t breathing. He jumps to grab his brother’s shoulders and shakes him hard in a sudden panic, his first thought being that his brother had been hexed by the witches they were currently hunting, “Dean! Hey, what’s wrong? Talk to me!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I-"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Are you hexed?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It's-"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Dean!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The- look!" Dean splutters, his pointer finger shooting out. Sam follows his gaze and immediately calms as his brother grasps his shoulder, curling a handful of his suit in his fist. "The- it's Baby- look at the car Sam! The car! Son of a-” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam's staring at the car, looking for a busted tail light or a flat tire but he sees nothing. His heart is pounding and he lets his fist fall against Dean's chest, shaking his head, "Dude I thought-"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"We have bigger problems than me getting hexed," Dean wheezes, breaking out of his sibling's grip, pushing past Sam with flailing limbs. Sam straightens, breathing a sigh of relief as he staggers, falling back on his heels courtesy of his brother's not so gentle shove. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The older hunter sprints over to the Impala and practically dives for it and crouches, before running his finger vehemently on the door, letting out a yelp. He rubs it again and ducks his head, trying and failing to take a deep breath. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam walks over slowly, squinting to see what he was rubbing at, “You looked like you were having a stroke or something.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah? Well maybe I am!” Dean splutters, turning on him with an emotional look in his eyes. “Look at the car Sam!” It's then that Sam sees the scratch, now visible up close, that looks like a small key scrape. It wasn't nothing, but you'd think it was a bullet hole with the way Dean was reacting. The older Winchester's voice raised and he screamed at no one in particular, looking around the parking lot, “What the <em>hell</em> happened to my car?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Calm down-” Sam winces, putting a hand on his shoulder. Then he jumps as Dean bellows back at him before he can even finish his sentence. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t tell me to calm down,” Dean says, his voice switching to a whimper as he pats the door lovingly and growls, “I’ll get them baby, I’ll track them down and murder them, I swear.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Forget witches or even stopping Lucifer,” Sam mutters, scratching his head with a hint of a sarcastic smile. “This is much, </span>
  <em>
    <span>much </span>
  </em>
  <span>worse-” he decides.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You shut your mouth,” Dean swears, spinning on his brother and pointing at him fiercely, not appreciating the lack of support coming from his younger sibling. But his emotion takes over and he turns back to the car, trying to rub it off with his jacket covered elbow. “Who did this? Sam look at her- oh God-” he groans.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam, realizing his brother was about to drive himself insane or hyperventilate, one of the two, rolls his eyes and steps forward to intervene, firmly grabbing his brother’s jacket and shoulder and guiding him to the passenger’s seat, getting the keys from his brother's hand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Easy Dean, it’s just a scratch,” he says gently, suppressing the urge to roll his eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>manhandle </span>
  </em>
  <span>me dude, get off!” Dean whacks his arm, yanking the door open and dropping into the seat, running his hands along his thighs like he was having a panic attack. “And it’s not just a scratch it’s a </span>
  <em>
    <span>big </span>
  </em>
  <span>scratch," he said angrily. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t notice it,” Sam points out, about to shut the door. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, well you don’t look at her the way I do,” Dean huffs in annoyance, running his hand through his hair as he shoots the younger hunter a look. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam snorts, “Dean, <em>no one</em> looks at this car the way you do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You watch what you say about her,” Dean glares at him fiercely, “she’s already hurt.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh oh, whatever dude,” Sam snickers, closing the door on his brother once he sees his fist curl. Sam loops around to the driver’s side and stands outside the car, ducking down to make cautious eye contact. “You punch me, and I swear to God we’re gonna have an issue.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well I need to punch something!” Dean yells in a panic, gulping down air.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And?” Sam exclaims, knitting his brow and sputtering, “Why does it have to be me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because I’m the older one, that’s how it works,” Dean said immediately, nodding like he was saying the most honest truth in the world. “Older brother punches younger brother, and younger brother shuts up about it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That is not how it works,” Sam splutters. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It is too,” Dean says, curling his fist. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam stands his ground. He announced, “I’m not getting inside that car until you calm down.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am calm!” Dean yells. Sam raises an eyebrow, giving him a pointed look and his brother glares at him, fuming, before he lets out another half sigh, half yell, of exasperation. Then, making searing eye contact with Sam, he begins exaggerated inhales and exhales, his lips puckered. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You look like an idiot, but I’ll take it.” Sam is finally satisfied and he slowly gets in the driver’s seat, giving it a second to make sure he doesn't get pummeled. He clicks in his seatbelt, putting his hands on the wheel, before he scoffs at the hunter in the passenger seat, “You’re insane.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am not,” Dean mutters. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ok, Mr. I’m in love with my car,” Sam snickers. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean lands a solid punch in his chest and Sam clutches his aching ribs, complaining, “Dude!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Drive,” Dean says firmly, crossing his arms. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shaking his head, Sam cranks the key, turning the car over. Looking behind him, he pulls out of the parking space and spins the wheel, but not before he plants a hit to Dean’s gut in retaliation. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>they made fun of sam w clowns so much throughout 15 seasons but we never saw dean afraid of planes again XD SPN writers whats up w that? that doesnt really relate lol sorry<br/>Anyway i hope u liked it XD this one was funny to me. Baby owns a special place in my heart and ive always wanted an impala SO BAD. Please tell me what you thought! new one will be up soon thank you for reading &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Subtle Protection</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hello lovely readers! Happy Halloweennnnnn- its a 4 day weekend and my stress level is down today which is always nice :) The amount of things on the supernatural wiki website are hilarious like how many times each brother has gotten knocked unconscious ANDDDD the amount of times dean has taken the bed closest to the door :) im making it canon. so. Also most importantly thank you to the incredibly talented wayyy better writer than me make_your_own_world for this one. This was a small gem in a shared google drive doc lol<br/>Short and sweet &lt;3</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Anyway, I think we can rule out demon," Dean said firmly, rubbing his chin before he spread his arms in annoyance. It was one of those hunts that required a little more digging, not just a cut and dry, gank a monster and be done, kind of job. He sighed, sinking down onto the bed, crossing his arms over his chest.</p><p>The older hunter ran through a couple off the top of his head, "Werewolf, crocotta- oh, what about a changeling? Those can morph into people," Dean trailed off once he realized his conversation partner hadn't been listening. He looked up before pulling himself into a sitting position to face his brother. With a look of annoyance, he snapped at his fingers at Sam who had zoned out. Dean's voice was dry and sarcastic but he wore a proud smirk, "Your contribution is just riveting, Sammy. Feel free to chime in whenever you feel like it."</p><p>Sam made a face, his head snapping up to him. He ran a hand over his face and mumbled, "I was thinking."</p><p>"Well that's never good," Dean grinned.</p><p>"Hilarious," Sam says dismissively. "I mean, you've got a point with the list, I'd put my money on a couple them if it wasn't for the heart being intact," he pointed out. He spread his hands, "I mean, you were there with me when the coroner showed us the body and...just, it doesn't make sense, Dean. Have we ever met a crocotta or changeling with werewolf claws?"</p><p>"No. No, we haven't." Dean groaned and sank backward onto his bed again, rubbing his eyes, "This stuff is hurting my head."</p><p>"Yeah that might be the two beers you had ten minutes ago," Sam corrected, flicking his gaze to the red numbers blinking on the alarm clock by the shared bedside table.</p><p>1:39</p><p>Dean shot him a look and mouthed his words in an inaudible high pitched voice before he yawned and announced gruffly, "Whatever. I'm going to sleep."</p><p>The older Winchester yanked off his shoes and launched them towards the opposite wall before he kicked off his jeans, leaving them on the floor.</p><p>"Dude, it's called a duffel," Sam sighed.</p><p>Dean slipped under the covers and brought them back up over his head with an angry growl, "Shut up. And let me sleep in or I’ll murder you."</p><p>Sam rolled his eyes. After washing his face and changing, he came back in, grabbing his knife and setting it under his pillow like his brother had taught him from a young age. </p><p>Then he opened his laptop while sitting on the edge of his bed, not wanting to sleep just yet. A small red battery sign blinked, turning the screen off the minute he opened it and Sam sighed in annoyance. He fell to the side of the bed and reached for the charger that was sticking out of his duffel. Grasping it and straightening, Sam turned, looking for a plug. The nearest one was on the other side of Dean's bed. Sam got to his feet, walked over, and shoved where he guesstimated his brother's shoulder was.</p><p>"Dean."</p><p>"What?" Dean grumbled, his voice muffled from the blanket. "It’s been two fudging seconds and you’re already waking me up?"</p><p>Sam ignored him and held up his laptop and charger, asking, "Can we switch beds? You're closer to the plug."</p><p>Dean peeked out from under the covers and made a face, "No, princess, we can't. Just plug it in and leave it on the floor."</p><p>"Yeah, well, I want to be on it for a little while," Sam said in annoyance, knitting his brow. He pushed his tongue against the inside of his cheek and looked around so he didn't lose his temper. Sometimes, his brother was stubborn, for the dumbest reasons. "Dean, just switch, what's the problem?" </p><p>Maybe if Dean had responded with something dumb, things would have gone differently. But instead, his brother looked up sleepily and pointed to his surroundings and then weakly to the front of the hotel room. His voice was groggy, but completely serious as he announced simply, "This bed is closer to the door."</p><p>Sam nodded with a blank expression, suddenly very confused. The best response he could come up with was, "You're right, Sherlock, it is. What's the problem?"</p><p>The older Winchester scoffs, raising an eyebrow, visibly struggling to sit up as he responded in typical Dean, 'i have more sarcasm than you,' fashion. "Well my dear Watson, I figured you would have noticed by now since you're such a control freak. I always take the bed closest to the door."</p><p>"Why?" Sam asked, frowning with confusion. No, he hadn’t noticed that. But now that he thought of it...Dean had always taken the bed closest to the door. But he couldn't for the life of him, figure out why. The answer was not what he expected.</p><p>"So when a big scary monster comes in I can rescue you, the damsel in distress, that's why," Dean said plainly, giving him a cocky, older brother smile. </p><p>"You've got to be kidding me," Sam said dryly, blinking once, waiting for his brother to tell him it was all a joke. </p><p>"Dude, it's late, you shouldn't be staying up anyway," Dean looked over at the clock. Then, realizing he had showed a moment of compassion, he changed his tone and ordered, "So just plug it in, leave it on the floor, and go to bed. For the love of God."</p><p>“But-” Sam protests in shock. </p><p>“Sammy, no,” Dean says with a loud groan, turning over into the comforter and pillow and ending the discussion.</p><p>Sam shot the pile of covers a dirty look and sighs, plugging his computer in and leaving it on the floor there before he went over to his own bed and slipped in. Then he blinks once. That was the reason he had always taken the bed closest to the door? Since they were kids he realized he had done it. Just a subtle act of protection from his older sibling, something that was annoying but also comforting. </p><p>Wordlessly, Sam rolled onto his left side, instinctively to the edge of the bed closest to his brother. He didn't register how the older Winchester was on the edge of his own bed closest to Sam.</p><p>The brothers fell asleep almost instantly. They didn't speak about it the next morning. And next time they got a hotel room, Dean took the bed closest to the door, and Sam turned away with a smile, setting his duffel down on the other one. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>love them to death omg<br/>and i am NOT ready for the finale at all<br/>ive got 2 or 3 more written teehee i may write like 2 more on top of that???? well see???<br/>thank u guys for reading, check back soon! :)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Denial</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>hello lovely readers.<br/>im sorry.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“So can we talk about the case or not?” Sam sighs, rubbing a hand through his tangly mess of hair, his fingers dropping to rub a thin cord around his neck. </p><p>“Did you know there’s a really nice bar about five minutes down the road? I think we should interview some locals there,” Dean said to his brother while sitting on the opposite bed, cleaning his guns. He squinted as he unraveled the cloth and started polishing the barrel. </p><p>“But Dean, we have all the facts,” Sam chuckled lightly, gesturing to the laptop he had spent three hours doing research on in effort to find out what it was that they were hunting. Which he had. A Rugaru.</p><p>“The brunette waiting for me at the pool table doesn’t know that,” Dean winked, sighing longingly before blowing harshly to rid one of the guns of dust. He coughs and sets it down with a shrug, moving onto the next compartment of the pistol, narrowing his eyes in concentration. Sam shakes his head but can’t help but give his older brother a loving smile. Dean catches him staring and frowns, “I know I’m stunningly good looking but what the heck are you grinning at?”</p><p>Sam brushes it off with a wave of dismissal, “Nothing.”</p><p>“Uh huh, so can we end the chick flick now?” Dean gives him a look, widening his eyes before rolling them dramatically. “Alright,” he motions for a beer which Sam grabs out of the cooler at his feet and places on the bedside table between them, sliding it forward. His brother twirls his finger in a round motion, “Tell me about the case.”</p><p>Sam lights up and grabs his laptop, a smile spreading on his face at the thought of research. His older brother smirks at his reaction. Sam spins the computer around, the screen bright. He leans forward, clasping his hands, elbows resting on his knees. “Alright, so it’s a Rugaru. It’s human, but then the person will slowly start to change and...crave red meat. First it’s hamburgers, then, if not stopped, they have a sweet tooth for,” Sam pauses and wrinkles his nose. “People.”</p><p>“How are they infected?” Dean’s brow knit and he racked the gun and tucked it back into their weapons duffle. </p><p>“That’s the thing,” Sam rubbed his chin. “It’s not a virus, Dean. It’s- it’s passed down genetically. And get this- they don’t need to fully turn. If they never eat human flesh they can stay in touch with reality, but the minute they-”</p><p>“Chow down on a homosapien burrito?” Dean offers with a wide grin, but he can see the underlying disgust. </p><p>Sam winces at his brother’s word usage but nods, “Sure. Once they...do that," he says with a quick glance up, "there’s no turning back. They get super strength, speed, stamina, senses-” he trailed off. </p><p>“What, you ran out of s words?” Dean asks innocently, triumphant when he sees his younger brother’s glare. He continues, rubbing his chin with the back of his hand, “So has this guy- Rob, right? Has he...gone to town on some poor bastard yet?” The older Winchester gestured with the gun and the cleaning cloth. </p><p>Sam shakes his head, “Don’t think so. The change happens almost immediately and they go on a killing spree. As far as we know, he- he hasn’t wigged out yet. But he’s close.”</p><p>“Your favorite Sammy,” Dean announces, putting the gun back together and threading the cloth through with a wink. “Someone we can maybe talk out of turning into a monster.”</p><p>Sam shakes his head sadly and admits, “I don’t think so. No Rugaru has ever stopped themselves from turning, they all eat the meat one way or another. A lot of hunters have tried.”</p><p>Dean frowns mostly at his brother’s disappointment. He's never been opposed to killing monsters, or almost monsters, but Sam kept the two of them in check; he had the better moral compass. “Oh,” he says simply. Then Dean shrugs and asks, “Okay, then how do we kill it?”</p><p>“Fire,” Sam answers plainly, shutting his laptop. </p><p>Dean’s eyes widen and he bounces off the bed, tossing the guns into the duffle and throwing it back to it's home on the floor at the edge of the bed. “Heck yes!" he grins, "Blaze of glory. And then dinner, because I'm hungry. But of course, blow-torching the sucker comes first.”</p><p>Sam nods, starting to wiggle into his boots and tie the laces, “Yeah, if you want to...put it that way.”</p><p>Dean leans down to make playful eye contact, “Come on, Sammy, you’ve always been the sensitive one. I’m more the- shoot first ask questions later type of guy.” </p><p>He starts heading to the door and Sam scoffs, “You’re not gonna get our bag?”</p><p>“No, you are,” Dean grins. Sam sighs, getting to his feet and slinging the duffle over his shoulder, nearly knocking over his brother’s untouched and unopened beer on the bedside table. He then crosses the room, his brother leaning patiently- actually impatiently, against the wall. Sam rolls his eyes for about the tenth time in five minutes and reaches for his coat. But his eyes fall on the one beside his and his chest tightens, throat closing up. </p><p>Sam freezes and his trembling hand starts forward, almost brushing the fabric visible with a small patch that's dark crimson red. Suddenly, his brother snaps near his face, breaking him out of his trance. Dean spreads his hands in confusion, asking, “Sammy, what’s the hold up? Forget to brush your hair?”</p><p>The younger Winchester's hand recoils and immediately flattens on the top of his chest, feeling something beneath his fingers that helps him calm down. Then, after taking a deep breath, he glares at the older hunter who just loved to mock him. Sam opened the door and Dean slipped through cockily with a smirk. Sam locked it behind him and finally commented on the jab about his hair, “Very funny, Dean.”</p><p>He then holds the keys out for his brother and his older sibling is about to let them drop into his palm before he closes his fist on second thought. “You know what?” he says thoughtfully, biting his lip before pointing at him. “You drive.”</p><p>Sam’s jaw drops before a ghost of a smile bleeds onto his face of disbelief. “Excuse me, what?”</p><p>“You heard me little brother. Just no sappy music,” Dean winks.</p><p>Sam grins happily and tosses the keys up to himself, catching them gladly before he hurries around and shoves the duffle in the trunk, shutting and locking it firmly once it's safely stored. Then he opens the driver door, sinking into the front seat with his brother already in the passenger's. He turns the car over with a quick flick of his wrist before he pulls the stick and reverses out of the parking lot. Dean is happily sitting beside him, finger brushing the top of the car as he leans casually against the window. Sam eases onto the gas while blasting ‘Ramble On’, Dean’s favorite by Led Zeppelin. </p><p>The older hunter looks over with approval and smirks, “Good choice Sammy.”</p>
<hr/><p>Sam gets tossed into the wall, the hit sending searing pain down his spine as he falls, landing weakly on his hands and knees. He barely has enough time to look up when he groans, rolling away as the Rugaru lunges, missing him by inches. </p><p>“DEAN!” Sam yells furiously, staggering to his feet before making a lunge for the lighter and the can of gasoline. </p><p>“Who are you calling for, boy? There’s no one else here,” the Rugaru snarls in confusion, blood dripping from his teeth. His wife’s dead body was in the other room; Sam had stumbled upon it while entering. He and Dean had split up to cover the house and his older sibling had yet to return. Meanwhile, Sam pulled the short straw with the monster.</p><p>“My brother,” Sam said furiously, planting a kick to the center of Rob's chest. The Rugaru fell back, giving Sam the space and angle he needed. In one fluid motion he tightened his grip on the gasoline and slammed his palms down hard on either side, effectively drenching the man with the liquid. The Rugaru snarled, gasoline dripping from his mouth and into his eyes.</p><p>Rob lunges for him and Sam sidesteps best he can, but gets clocked around the head. He falls backward, slamming into a glass table which shatters beneath him, glass cutting into his back. Sam wrestles his way out of the mess, shards slicing through his palms. He winces, grunting with pain as he manages to crawl forward in an attempt to get to his lighter. He's suddenly yanked backward, his neck strained from a tight grip on his hair. Sam is forced up at an odd angle, letting out a cry of pain  as the man bends down with jaws dripping blood, closing in on his neck. </p><p>In a moment of desperation, Sam throws his elbow back as hard as he can before twisting and bringing his leg to hook around the man's waist. He sends him crashing to the ground, hand splayed across his chest to keep him pinned, the other scrambling for his older brother’s silver lighter. His hand closes around it and the young hunter throws himself backward, allowing the monster to get to his feet. </p><p>The approaching monster towers over him and Sam grins, clicking and chucking the lighter forward before rolling away. The flame bounces off his chest, immediately catching. With a blood curling scream, the man erupts in a blaze in front of him and the young Winchester continues to scramble back, covering his head with his hands, feet pushing against the carpet to create as much distance between him and the thing he had just killed as possible. </p><p>When the screaming dies down and the body falls, Sam sits up on his elbows, breathing hard. He grabs and shuts his brother’s lighter with shaking fingers, slipping it back into his pocket. Then, making him jump and have a rush of calm at the same time, a familiar voice shouts, “SAM! SAMMY!”</p><p>“Here!” Sam makes out, still on the floor, staring at the corpse he had just charred. </p><p>He hears the front door splinter off it's hinges and Dean becomes visible once he banks the tight corner, his eyes finding his brother on the ground. He rushes forward, dropping to his knees beside him. His older sibling's hands cup the sides of Sam's face as he barks, “You okay?" Dean's gaze is full of concern, searching for injury as he repeats, "Sam, are you okay?”</p><p>“I’m fine. My back and hands are a little cut up, but I'm fine,” Sam groans as he’s helped up by his brother’s strong arms.</p><p>Dean steadies him warily, and looks at Robert’s body. “I came as fast as I could but I guess you had it under control,” the older hunter grins, clapping Sam on his back before realizing that was where he said he got cut up. "Oops, sorry."</p><p>"It's fine," The younger Winchester suppresses a wince and nods, letting out an exhausted exhale.</p><p>“Well done," Dean admits with a chuckle, looking at the body. He smirks, looking for approval at his joke and Sam blinks, shaking his head. Dean cuts his smile and tries again, "Medium rare- okay, okay." He backs off and changes the subject, rubbing his hands. "We've got to split before cops come. It's chow time anyway, we passed a burger place.”</p><p>“You’re kidding right?” Sam said breathlessly, looking his brother in disbelief.</p><p>His older brother pats him on the chest, “Nope. Let’s go.” </p><p>Sam opens the front door with his jacket sleeve to not leave fingerprints, and they walk out Sam closing it behind them before following his brother down the steps.</p>
<hr/><p>Sam grabbed a chicken caesar salad (because Dean refused to just let him eat lettuce with dressing, claiming he was skinny enough already) and then got a bacon cheeseburger with onion rings and extra fries for his brother, bringing it back to the car. </p><p>They drove back listening to “Night Moves” and Sam felt a wave of relief wash over him at his brother’s comforting voice singing the chorus. His hand crept up to his chest whenever Dean's voice faded and he felt the bulge under his t-shirt, managing to plaster a smile on his face as he squinted from the headlights of passing cars. </p><p>He pulled into the hotel’s parking lot and Sam got out of the car, grabbing the food and duffle, Dean too busy licking his finger and trying to rub out the tiniest scratch on his car’s tire rim to help him carry anything. </p><p>Nearly dropping his load due to the unbalance of it all, Sam grunted, “Little help, Dean?”</p><p>“Baby needs me, you can manage,” Dean called back, vigorously wiping at the small scratch. Sam entered the hotel room and dropped the duffle at the bottom of Dean’s messy bed before setting the burger down on his side of the bedside table, and his own salad on the other. Dean slipped in, rubbing his hands, and Sam sighed, getting up to close the door he had just left open.</p><p>“You done getting the paper cut sized scratch off of the love of your life?” he drawled, locking it with a small click. </p><p>“Yes,” Dean sniffed, matter-of-factly. “Yes, I am. And you," he points at him, "don't get to judge. Because you will never understand my relationship with my baby.”</p><p>“Yeah, okay,” Sam snorts with a laugh, taking a seat on the bed opposite his brother who is starring in delight at his burger. Sam digs into his salad, Dean starting to add ketchup to his burger, shoving in the onion rings as well. Then he jumps to his feet with a wide smile, “Hey, you know what? I think this place has got paper view-”</p><p>Sam’s chest tightens as his older brother leaves the table, leaving his food untouched. The young Winchester's hand inches up, underneath his chest this time, needing to feel the smooth and sharp point of the amulet. His brain was trying, he’d give it that. </p><p>“Hey, Dean?” he said, and his voice came out weaker than he expected after attempting to swallow the massive lump in his throat. He lets his hand drop from where he’s clutching the bronze piece and his plastic fork falls with a small clatter from his hand. Sam pushed his food away, lungs starting to sting as he struggled to take in a deep breath. </p><p>His brother was facing the TV, flipping through one of the channel pamphlets. “Yeah, Sammy?”</p><p>“My whole life you’ve protected me, you know that?” Sam whispered quietly, nodding very very slowly to himself. His leg was shaking, foot tapping against the floor. He swallowed, trying to get past the knot in his stomach, trying desperately to still hear his brother’s voice over the roaring in his ears. </p><p>Dean narrowed his eyes as he turned around casually and made a face of agreement, a smile breaking out on the older Winchester’s face. “Yeah? It’s my job," he said, as if it was nothing. But it was so much more than that. </p><p>“I guess I just- wanted to tell you thanks. I never really got to,” Sam says, his fingers balling up his napkin in his fist for the sole reason that his hands needed something to do. </p><p>“Well you said it now,” Dean winks, looking over his shoulder. He falters and asks with a sigh, "Uh, we don’t have to hug or anything, right? Cause if you’re about to start crying-”</p><p>Sam lets out a laugh that is wrestled down by a sob and he shakes his head, clearing his throat and scoffing, “No. No, come on dude, I’m not- I’m not that much of a sap.”</p><p>“Uh huh, <em> okay </em>,” Dean agrees in a dramatic voice practically dripping with sarcasm. Then his tone sobered and Sam hangs on every word, just desperate to hear anything remotely comforting from his brother again. “Well just know, as long as I’m around, nothing bad’s gonna happen to you.”</p><p>There goes Sam’s hand again, up to almost his neck, just to feel the amulet beneath his shirt. The phone ringing nearly makes him jump out of his skin and his head snaps towards it. Dean is too busy surfing channels; he had turned on the TV and was trying to find something to watch. Sam is closest anyway and leans over, checking the name. </p><p>“Who is it?” Dean asks casually. </p><p>“Bobby,” Sam says quietly, gulping. </p><p>“Well answer it, Rapunzel,” Dean snorts. </p><p>Sam hits the accept call button against his will and pinches the bridge of his nose, steeling himself for the conversation. His voice cracks, “Hey, Bobby.”</p><p>
  <em> “Hi, Sam.” </em>
</p><p>Silence. </p><p>Sam coughs loudly to clear his throat and raises his eyebrows, getting to his feet. Then he attempts to sound like he still maintained even an inch of composure when he asks, “Do you need something?”</p><p>The older man on the other end sighs, <em> “Really Sam?" </em></p><p>"Bobby, do you need something or not?" Sam demands, cursing himself for the misdirected anger he let seep into his tone. </p><p><em> "Well if you must know, son, I </em> <em> needed </em> <em> to check in on you. To see if you’re okay.” </em></p><p>Sam winces and he squeezes his eyes shut before nodding and clearing his throat again, “Okay, well, I’m fine.”</p><p>
  <em> “Sure you are." </em>
</p><p>"Bobby-" Sam warns quietly.</p><p>
  <em> "Sam-" </em>
</p><p>"Don't-" Sam practically pleads through a whisper. He knows what he's going to say and he almost wanted to smash the phone to pieces to keep him from hearing it.</p><p>
  <em> "You haven’t been fine since the day your brother died.” </em>
</p><p>Sam’s shaking now. He can't breathe. He ducks his head and his hand scrambles for the amulet, bringing it out from underneath his shirt so he can clench it in his fist. He somehow manages to fill his lungs just enough to hiss out, “I’m. Fine. I’ll call you in a week to check in.”</p><p>
  <em> “Sam-” </em>
</p><p>Sam hangs up forcefully, slamming a thumb against the off button, a tear trickling down his cheek. Then he throws the phone into the pillow and it tumbles to the bed. Sam's heart is being tossed ruthlessly around in his stomach and his vision is blurring, his chest heating up, hands starting to shake as a panic attack comes towards him like a tidal wave.</p><p>Dean’s voice makes him jump, and it pulls him into his reality. It saves him from the wave. Something fake saves him from something real, how ironic.</p><p>“What’d Bobby want?” his brother asks.</p><p>Sam focuses, centering himself before he forces a smile as he turns around and replies, “Just wanted to check up on us, that’s all.”</p><p>Dean nods, letting out a small groan as he continues to surf the channels and after a quick check over his shoulder, he says, “It looks good on you.”</p><p>“What?” Sam asks in confusion as he sinks down onto his bed. </p><p>“The amulet,” Dean smiles and Sam nearly breaks then and there. Dean's gaze is soft and his voice was truthful. </p><p>“Oh,” Sam whispers, looking down at the necklace that had once belonged to his brother. The necklace he had taken off of Dean's body. His hand instantly clenches around it, not caring that the sharp points dug into his skin.</p><p>“Thanks, jerk,” he says lowly.</p><p>Silence. </p><p>Sam’s head snaps up and glances around the empty room, reality kicking in, that tidal wave finally hitting him. And suddenly he's drowning, and there's no one to pull him out this time. His bottom lip starts to tremble and he pushes himself onto the bed, wrapping his fist around the amulet hanging from his neck before moving that hand and pressing it against his mouth in an effort to stop a sob- to not throw up- to force a breath through his nose-</p><p>“Keep it together Sam, keep it together,” he mutters to himself, his shoulders heaving one last time. </p><p>Then he falls into the normal motions. </p><p>Getting up and turning off the TV that’s playing static; it had never been switching channels.</p><p>Grabbing the untouched beer from the bedside table and emptying it in the sink, putting it in the recycling bin that’s nearly full of empty bottles, their contents similarly poured down the drain. </p><p>Closing the lid to the uneaten bacon cheeseburger and fries and onion rings and dumping it in the trash that has a breakfast and a lunch meal in there already from when he had dumped those uneaten meals as well. </p><p>He rubs his fingers on the amulet around his neck as he works, passing Dean’s messy bed. He had twisted the covers up on it when he came in; if his brother was actually there with him, he would have never made it in the morning, Sam had known since he was little. </p><p>He reaches down and picks up the duffle bag and starts to clean the guns that were incredibly dirty, like they hadn’t been cleaned in the past day, which they hadn’t, because Dean hadn't cleaned them.</p><p>Dean hadn't opened or closed the hotel door. Sam had. </p><p>He hadn't carried the duffle, opened the car door, touched the keys, or driven. Sam had. </p><p>Dean hadn't been in the house when he fought and killed the Rugaru, the monster was right, he was alone, he had just convinced himself they split up. </p><p>He hadn't broken the door down to get to him because Sam had opened it when they had left the house; it had never been touched. </p><p>He hadn't opened or closed the hotel door when he walked in. Sam had. </p><p>The younger Winchester could ignore all of these things for the most part, but sometimes he was reminded. And when he was reminded...</p><p>It’s time to leave this hotel. </p><p>Sam packs up the car numbly, and then comes back in for the key. As he starts for the door, leaving the empty hotel room behind, his hand shoots out on instinct as he grabs the collar of the leather jacket that belonged to his brother.</p><p>Dean's jacket was stained with dark crimson blood, and Sam curls it in his fist, slowly dragging it from the hanger, tucking it under his arm. He closes the door and walks to the check in room in silence. Jacket still held protectively, he turns in his own room key and the one he kept in his pocket. Then he slips into the driver’s seat, laying the coat in the passenger’s.</p><p>Sam cranks up a random Metallica song Dean used to hum whenever he was nervous and pulls out of the parking lot, hands clenched tightly around the wheel. He drives with white knuckles for a while, he doesn’t know how long, to the coordinates someone had sent him on his phone with details for a case. </p><p>Eventually, the younger Winchester pulls into that parking lot, wide awake; he rarely slept now. It was almost 3 in the morning and Sam steps out of the car almost robotically, not recognizing his own movements. He checks himself into a room with two beds. The man gives him a confused look.</p><p>“For my brother. He’s coming,” Sam assures him with a forced smile. He's handed two keys. Sam takes one set and slips the other into his pocket. </p><p>Then he enters the room, flicking the lights on and staring. His feet are moving without him telling him to and he lets the duffle drop to the floor by the bed closest to the door, Dean’s bed. Then he yanks the covers a bit to mess it up. He carefully hangs up his brother's coat by the door, fingers squeezing the fabric lightly. Then he goes back outside to lock the car after grabbing a couple more small things. </p><p>Finishing, he closes the trunk and wraps his coat around him, breath visible when he exhales. He makes his way forward but his hand clenches around the handle to the room and Sam pauses. </p><p>Eye squeezing shut, he curls his fingers around the amulet. Then he tucks it into his shirt, blinking harshly. Sam takes shuddery breaths, desperately needing to fill his stinging lungs, hand still clenched around the handle to the room. He shakes his head to clear his blurry vision and locks his knees, determined to stay standing. His gaze burns and despite his pounding head, he breathes in and out as best he can without a sob choking him. </p><p>He needs his brother. </p><p>Sam pushes open the door and looks into the room.</p><p>“What took you so long? You could freeze out there, idiot,” Dean sighs in concern, cleaning the guns on top of his messy covers. Sam exhales and breaks into a smile but doesn’t respond. His silence doesn’t go unnoticed. His brother motions with one of the hands and scoffs, “What’s the matter with you?” </p><p>“Nothing,” Sam says quietly, still staring at him.</p><p>Dean blinks, "Do you want to let in all the cold air or what?"</p><p>Sam snaps out of his thoughts and smirks, closing the door behind him before kicking off his shoes. He purposefully avoids looking at the jacket next to the one he hangs up. Then he crosses the room, sinking down opposite from Dean, alone in the room meant for two, staring at someone who only existed in his heart because he refused to accept the fact that Dean was dead. </p><p>Denial was powerful.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>im sorry. *awkward glances* anywayyyyyy<br/>next one will be a lot happier i promiseeeeeee<br/>hope everyone is doing wellllll &lt;3 &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Haunted House Part 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>WOW IM LATE IM SO SORRY<br/>heyo lovely cool readers im back its been crazy and i havent had a lot of time to write so im sorry<br/>I think this is one of my favs, it's gonna be the finale to this little fic (its two or three parts tho so dont worry this isnt the last chapter) but yeah.<br/>I hope you like it, have a wonderful tuesday, i do hope ur not stuck in a mystery spot today, and uhhhh coffee is awesome :)))</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“So you’re…” the man trailed off, looking at the two boys standing in front of him. One has wide eyes, short, sort of spikey hair, and a flashy and convincing smile. He’s energetically leaning against the counter, talking with his hands. The taller one is a small step behind him, but not ostracized, with longer hair and bangs that almost covered his gaze. He was watching his older brother with exasperation.</p><p>“Ghost hunters,” Dean said with a nod and a wide smile, drumming his fingers on the counter. “Caspers give us a run for our money and let me tell ya, the stuff we’ve seen…” he shakes his head.</p><p>"You're the first people in a while to come try and check this out. The crowds died off a couple years ago, I guess it spooked them too much," the man said cautiously.</p><p>Dean grinned, “Well we kind of go around looking for things like this. It’s our hobby. So if you don’t mind telling us about the house, we’d really appreciate it,” he said sincerely, turning to look over his shoulder. “Right Sammy?”</p><p>The older Winchester’s gaze fell on his much less excited, and definitely not thrilled, younger sibling and stepped forcefully on his foot when he took too long to answer. </p><p>“Right. Pretty please,” Sam said with a fake smile. Dean cursed his brother internally and as he spun around to face the man who was clearly unimpressed. Dean gave a little shrug and clenched his teeth in another grin, making a mental note to punch his younger sibling in the gut the minute the opportunity arose. They had argued in the car for about an hour, with nothing better to do, about coming here, and Dean had finally won him over, but Sam wasn’t happy about it. </p><p>The man nodded, turning his focus back to Dean who waited for an answer. Then he winced apologetically and addressed the hopeful Winchester, “Well the problem is, sir, that after some tragic incidents that all occurred, the county has forbid us to inform guests about it or encourage anyone to investigate it for themselves. We’re all tied up here, legal wise. There’s a lot of red tape,” he said slowly, placing his hands flat on the counter, “so I’m afraid there’s not much I can do.”</p><p>Dean bit his lip and dug out a fifty out of sight of the cameras, folding it over his credit card that he would hand over later, “First off, for your troubles. And second, we won’t press legal charges, no matter what crazy crap happens, you’ve got my word. If you need me to give my John Hancock, I’d be happy to. Plus, if you just talked about it off the record, and turn away from that security camera there that is only video and not audio, I don’t think anyone would know this ever happened, now would they?” Dean asked innocently. </p><p>The man blinked, smile spreading onto his face as he nodded and palmed one of Dean's fake credit cards, slipping the fifty into his pocket while avoiding the camera before typing a little on his keyboard. He swipes the card and hands it back, scribbles the names down, and hands them a set of keys, smiling, “No they would not.” </p><p>Dean winks, “Thanks." He leans forward, making a face and gesturing casually, “So just between the two of us, do you think there is something in there?”</p><p>The man smiles but it soon falls and he gulps. He seems nervous to answer the question when he raises his gaze. He speaks slowly, “All I know is someone who stayed in this hotel, spent the night in the abandoned Warren House, back when this place had 10 rooms. They went into that house, and never came out. Since then, it became a spot for people like you, or high teenagers who want get a good scare. If they never went into the house, they lived. The people that did go in have gone missing, gone by sunrise."</p><p>"Yeah, I read up a bit," Sam nods from behind him and Dean realizes that's probably what his nerdy brother was doing in the car on his phone when they weren't talking. "Any idea what happened to them?"</p><p>"In all honesty, no. No one knows what happens. You want to know why I didn’t ask for your signature? Because no one is ever able to press charges. Because if something happens that us sue worthy, they aren't seen again," the man shrugs like that is no big deal, which somehow makes it even more uncomfortable.</p><p>“So why doesn’t the manager close this place down?” Sam asked with a snort. Despite not liking him due to his lack of support at the moment, Dean has to agree.</p><p>The man shrugs, “Press. Fame. We're the ‘haunted’ hotel, which isn't even accurate, it's the house that's got the problems. And we can't touch the Warren House even if we wanted to tear it down because we don't own that property. As for the hotel itself, the only connection it has is the fact that the people that died stayed here the night they went missing. The house itself...I've never been, but I've heard the stories." Then he shakes his head, getting back on subject, "But this place hasn't had any problems or weird-”</p><p>“Cold spots? Flickering lights?” Dean suggests randomly, confused at the knowing look on the man's face.</p><p>He scoffed and waved his hand, “Ghost crap? I've been asked those questions before. Nah. Not in the hotel. We’ve had a bunch of ghost junkies come here. Most chickened out and never went in the house, that's why they're still alive, but none of them ever found anything spooky around here. I’m telling you gents, whatever is in that house doesn't play nice. No sane person would ever go near it unless they want to tempt fate, let alone spend the night in it. To do both is practically suicide, and illegal trespassing. We take no responsibility for any of our guests that cross the property line.” He says firmly but then smirks, shuffling his papers together. “But what the hell? It’s probably a ghost story."</p><p>"Probably," Dean grins, but neither mean it.</p><p>"Well, all I'll say is you'd be insane to purposefully try and add your names to the list of the people who went missing," the man said with a shrug.</p><p>Dean grinned and patted his brother on the shoulder, “Well luckily, we’re crazy,” he said matter-of-factly. “Thanks. Let’s go, Sam.” The man gives them a nod and then turns, pushing through the door to the back.</p><p>The older Winchester leads his younger sibling down the hallway and Sam catches up to him, muttering, “You really think we should be doing this?”</p><p>“What, you afraid of some ghost?” Dean snorted, looking sideways at him. “Little late for that, Sammy. Maybe you should rethink your profession.”</p><p>Sam reached and grabbed a handful of his jacket, shaking his head, “I’m serious, Dean. I checked, no one has died in five years, you know why? Because no one is going <em> in the house</em>. You heard the guy, the crowds died down, which means we have time to do this right and ask around. It’s Pandora’s box and you want to open it the first chance we get! At least let's do more research first. You want to go <em>tonight.</em>”</p><p>Dean allowed his brother’s grip to stop him in the hallway and he faced him, gesturing confidently to his duffle, “Look, we’ve got pretty much everything we need in here, meaning we’re ready to kill just about any monster there is. Besides, you heard the guy. No one knows what goes on, there are no survivors or witnesses to ask even if you wanted to. They're all dead!" Sam gives him a look and Dean sighs, "Sammy, more people are gonna keep trying to play the hero and go in there and find out what happened to those people. The most qualified individuals for doing that, is me and you. What could happen?”</p><p>“Do you want me to list off five things?” Sam says with wide eyes that flash with anger, pursing his lips. “Ten? Dean, I could rattle off one hundred and seventeen-”</p><p>Dean snickers, “Wow, that’s exact-”</p><p>“I’m not kidding, dude. This is colossally stupid, even for us. And before you say we’ve gone to haunted houses before, yes, I remember the Lizzie Borden thing, I remember all of them- but those had stories, lore, a pattern, evidence- this one?” Sam shakes his head and hisses, “I'm fine with going in the house, I think we should. I think there's something in there that needs to be killed-" he holds out his hand and finishes calmly, "just after some more research. We’ve got no leads, and no plan. Give me a couple hours.”</p><p>“I have a plan,” Dean protested. He shouldered his duffel, “We gank the sucker.” Then he rolls his eyes dramatically and mutters under his breath. His brother's doing the puppy eyed look, he knows it without even raising his gaze. He curses, "Fine. We'll wait, I'll give you time to do your research thing and act like you're a genius and do your little 'so get this' and then once you're done with all that librarian crap and I get sleep, we'll go. Sound good? Great. Good talk, really appreciated your input. Now turn off the eyes. You got me."</p><p>Sam smirked and accepted the small victory, about to follow his brother who took a small step forward. Then he almost ran into him; Dean had turned around. “Oh, and one more thing.” Sam frowns and doesn't react fast enough as Dean socks him in the groin. The younger Winchester groans, holding his crotch and Dean grins, already sauntering forward down the hall, “That’s for being a Debbie Downer back there.”</p><p>Sam catches up with a slight limp and he checks him in the shoulder, “Really?”</p><p>“Yes, really. Key,” Dean tosses it up, his brother catching it with one hand. They step into the elevator and Dean reaches to press the level 3 button. The doors are about to slide shut before someone stops it, scrambling in. </p><p>It’s a man with blonde short hair, name tag that reads Gary, mid thirties, and his eyes are wide. He looks around like there are cameras in the elevator, which there aren't before whispering, “Are you really gonna check out the house?” He asks it nervously, wringing his hands.</p><p>Sam and Dean look sideways at each other and nod. Dean smiles, “Yessir.”</p><p>“Dudes...you guys are nuts,” Gary leaned against the wall and shook his head. “The last people that went looking backed out, and they seemed pretty legit. They had a camera crew and a van and everything. They even had a chant, it was like ghooostfacers," he hissed, wiggling his fingers in front of his face. Then he awkwardly crossed his arms, "They high tailed it out of there."</p><p>"Oh God," Dean groans, sinking back against the railing and Sam makes a face and shakes his head. </p><p>"Do you- do you know those guys?" the man asks slowly, looking back and forth between the brothers. </p><p>"Yes," Sam nods weakly. </p><p>Gary grins, "They seemed pretty cool-"</p><p>"They're morons," Dean says with a fake smile. </p><p>"Well they had the cool equipment," Gary mumbles, looking rather deflated. </p><p>Sam gives Dean a look and tries to recover, "We're just...rivals?" he lies and runs with it, faking a smile. "Hard feelings, you know? He doesn't like to talk about it," he motions to Dean, trying to keep a straight face.</p><p>"Really, Sam?" Dean glances at him. </p><p>"Oh, no, it's fine, dude, I get it," Gary nods in understanding, giving Dean a look of compassion and waving his hand. "I won't go there. In fact, I'll change the subject."</p><p>"This elevator doesn't go faster, does it?" Dean asked to no one in particular.</p><p>"I was working here when that woman went missing," Gary winces to the both of them. "She went into the house. Never came out."</p><p>"Were you there?" Sam asks with a raised eyebrow.</p><p>The man scoffs, "Of course not, no," he laughs nervously, his eyes darting back and forth, "no one has seen people actually disappear or die, they just don't come back.”</p><p>"Has anyone found their bodies?" Sam asked. </p><p>"No," the man shakes his head and widens his eyes. "Most think they're still in the house." Gary points with a trembling finger and announces, “So unless you got some Ghostbuster stuff in those duffels, I’m doing my duty as a good citizen to tell you that whatever is in that house is not playing around.”</p><p>Dean snorts, "Lucky for us, we've got guns. Excuse us please?” The doors open and he and Sam walk out and down the hall, hefting their duffles over their shoulders.</p><p>“Have a nice day, sir,” Sam says with a weak smile as he passes. The elevator closes behind him, leaving the concerned and very confused worker pressed against the side of one of the walls. </p><p>"The hell was that, Sam? I don't like to talk about it? Hard feelings?" Dean growled. </p><p>"You keep everything bottled up Dean," Sam pats him on the shoulder with a grin. </p><p>"Oh, shut up," Dean hits his hand in disgust.</p><p>After maneuvering around the halls for a little while, the brothers reach the split at the end and turn the corner, getting to their room. The carpet is a pattern of triangles, all heading to the final door, the lights dim. Dean unlocks and opens the door, shoving to get in front of Sam. After a second of pushing, they both get into the room, the bolt clicking behind them.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>19:00</strong>
</p><p>"You think if we went in the day time the ghost would just...not be there?" Dean wonders, flipping through the channels on TV as they wait for it to get dark. "Because in all those horror movies, which are totally inaccurate by the way-" he points with a frown. "Who falls every time they run? They're usually not even tripping over anything. And it's always a girl too, why is that?"</p><p>"It's for dramatic effect, Dean," Sam sighs, not looking up from his laptop. "Everyone agrees it's stupid and inaccurate." </p><p>Dean rubs his chin, "To be fair, you get knocked out easily so I guess it's kind of believable. A gust of wind could send you on your-"</p><p>"Really?" Sam looks over with narrowed eyes, biting his cheek in frustration.</p><p>"Yeah, but back to my point," Dean says dismissively. "If the stereotypical family who's being haunted had all the windows open and sunlight is streaming in, it would be a lot less scary. Imagine if a possessed person just follows you outside and they're chasing you with a blue sky, soft breeze, and birds chirping all around?" He takes a bite of a granola bar he had just opened and waves his hand. "Different story, ya know?"</p><p>"Sometimes what goes on in your head scares me," Sam admits, scrolling through an article.</p><p>"It's a legitimate point!" Dean protests.</p><p>"Uh huh."</p><p>"I'm gonna film a horror movie in full sunlight," Dean decides. </p><p>"You do that," Sam smirks. </p><p>"I'm making millions," Dean looks over at him in distaste. </p><p>"Lucky you," Sam says, clicking into another tab on his computer. </p><p>"And you aren't getting a cent of it," Dean tells him through a mouthful, throwing the empty wrapper at him. It falls short and lands on the ground between the two beds. </p><p>Sam's gaze flicks towards the trash on the floor and frowns before he raises an eyebrow at his brother, "I'm not getting a cent of your nonexistant money? Am I supposed to be offended?"</p><p>"I hate you," Dean stares at him before shaking his head and returning his gaze to the TV with a big sigh. "You should encourage me to pursue my dreams."</p><p>“Noted,” Sam grins. He squints at the clock, “If you want to get sleep now, you probably should." They had done a sweep on the room, no hex bags, no EMF, it was completely safe. Now they were just waiting for dark.</p><p>“True, it does sound like it's time for me to give up on consciousness,” Dean grumbles, rolling over into his pillow.</p><p>"Okay," Sam nods. "I'll wake you up at, what? 11:30? Is that when you want to go to the house? So we can get there before midnight?” </p><p>The older hunter raises his head and makes a face, "Sure. But don't wake me up before then. And if you don't sleep and I get killed because my sidekick is dozing off on the job I will murder you." He falls asleep and starts snoring almost instantly and although Sam tries to stay up a bit, reading more about the people that had died in the house, he eventually falls asleep as well, head falling to the pillow facing his brother. </p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>23:30</strong>
</p><p>Sam yawned, slipping out of bed before reaching and yanking on Dean's arm. "Hey, Dean, up and at em'." He hit his brother's shoulder one more time before giving up. Sam turned, combing a hand through his long hair as he made his bed, grabbing the clothes he had laid out.</p><p>"Five more minutes. Ghosts can wait," Dean growled behind him, disappearing under the comforter.</p><p>Sam sighs and grabs a hold of the blankets before giving them a harsh yank, grinning at his brother's hiss as his covers are ripped away. The older Winchester's eyes fly open and he shoots Sam a dirty look, getting to his feet groggily and rubbing his eyes. He shoves Sam while he's got one foot in a jean leg, and the younger hunter falls backward onto the bed, cursing as he trips over his pants. Dean snickers, crossing the room and ignoring the comments about maturity that are thrown at him, closing the door to the bathroom.</p><p>A couple minutes later after jogging down the staircase and pushing open the back door they start the trek into the woods with their duffles hung over their shoulders. "So get this, I did a lot of reading last night and Gary was right, none of the bodies have been found. All these people just went into this house and never came out. I had to sift through a ton of BS though. The more gruesome the stories got, the more popular they were, which meant pretty much all of them were fake. Anyway, the original guy who went in there was named Liam, no living relatives at that time except his older brother who also died, just not in the house- Dean, are you listening?"</p><p>"Yeah, totally," Dean grinned. Sam sighs and waves him off. Engaging in casual banter for about five minutes, they finally reach the entrance and Dean stops his younger sibling, pointing down. The grass dies immediately one step forward where the tall metal gate begins and the two brothers look at the brown and yellow blanket that leads all the way up to the house with distaste.</p><p>"That's a good sign," Sam smiles fakely, clicking on his flashlight as the trees thicken and the bright moon ducks behind some clouds. They slip through the gate, wrenching it open just enough for them to fit, sticks snapping beneath their feet as they walk up the gravel pathway. Sam tugs his jacket tighter in the cold, looking around at the shadows dancing across the battered and beaten walls. The house was clearly old and not being taken care of by whoever owned this property. Vines spiral up the columns on either side of the entrance, creeping up the front of the house and the stone steps that are practically crumbling as they walk up them. The vines aren't green though, they're limp, brown, and shriveled, like the sun had desperately tried to reach them and failed. In fact, Sam couldn't see one single thing that was alive near that house. Some of the windows are shattered, and somehow it felt like whatever was in there was sliding out and poisoning the grass they were stepping on.</p><p>The two Winchesters stop by the front door, flashlights scanning the entirety of it, leaves piled on the sides, a low breeze sending them scattering in between their legs. They both stare intently at the old and delicately designed brass handle that's practically begging to be opened. The older hunter looks over at his sibling who is looking at the craftsmanship with concentration and an evil grin creeps onto his face. He suddenly grabs Sam's arm, shouting, “Oh my God!”</p><p>Sam jumps, cursing, gripping Dean’s jacket on instinct before shoving him away with a grumbled protest, “The hell man…that’s not funny.”</p><p>Dean’s cackling and he parries the shoves his brother pummels him with. “It’s a little funny. Lighten up, Sammy.” They return their attention to the door and give one last sweep behind them to make sure they're not being followed. </p><p>"Here goes nothing," Dean grumbled, gripping his salt gun as he grabs the handle which is icy cold, sucking the heat from his fingers. He pushes the heavy door open with a loud creak, immediately raising the barrel of the shot gun up to his chest in case there were any unwanted welcomes. Sam lifts the EMF detector but realizes its useless once it starts going off the charts.</p><p>"Well we knew that," Dean scoffed at the annoying high pitched whine, but even he seemed weary of the emptiness in front of him. Sam shut off and shoves the device hurriedly back into his pocket and grips his gun instead, raising it with his flashlight switched on beneath it. He peaks in and swipes the beam along the floor that's coated with a layer of dirt and dust. The small bit of light now streaming in from the outside splashes across the foyer of the house, and the brothers see spiderwebs tangled on the splintered balcony, a massive chandelier hanging from a ceiling that has too many cracks to count. The floor is made of aged wood and shadows hiss and retreat into the dark halls, safe from the light they had just let in. Leaves and vines cover the floor and corners, small bits of glass scattering the space below the broken windows.</p><p>"Well I love what they did with the place." Neither want to step in first, and Dean sighs, grinning over his shoulder, "This should be fun."</p><p>"Yep," Sam sighs, following his brother inside. They aim their flashlights along the wide stairway that is right in front of them, the velvet steps stained and ripped. Sam and Dean scan every inch of the walls, the paint peeling. The brothers stay within a couple feet of one another, cautiously turning circles and looking down the hallways on either side of the foyer. Stone statues placed in either corner make them both tense before doing a double take and recognizing that they are intimate objects. Dean looks down at the rotted wood and bends his knees, hopping a little. The floor groans beneath him, holding firm for the time being, and Sam slaps his shoulder with an exasperated look. </p><p>"Are you an idiot?" he asks with wide eyes. "There could be a basement down there, you'd fall right through."</p><p>"It's a free country, let me have fun," Dean glares. </p><p>"You do this on elevators too," Sam protests. </p><p>"Yeah, so?"</p><p>They're about twenty feet from the door as it slams shut in the middle of the forming argument, making them both jump and spin, the ground practically shaking underneath them from the amount of force.</p><p>"Somebody doesn't want us leaving," Dean mutters, looking up as creaks sound from above him, like everything is settling after an earthquake. "Or maybe it was the wind," Dean continues with a big grin, Sam not acknowledging his joke, instead giving him a RBF which his brother rolls his eyes at. Both squint and blink as their eyes adjust to the room that just got about ten times darker. Dust falls from the ceiling and banister above. The only light now comes from the massive windows, stain glass and bumpy crystal patterns that distort the moon's rays, and the two flashlights that they both nearly dropped from the jump scare. </p><p>"Which way?" Dean swipes the flashlight down the left hallway and then the right.</p><p>There's too much space in this house, too many empty corners, too much nothingness where something has to be. Sam feels like whenever he turns, something is behind him, and it sends a chill down his spine. "Left," he says, starting forward.</p><p>"Okay," Dean nods and then turns right. Sam sighs and does an about face before following, the floor creaking beneath the two of them as they walk down one of the main hallways. It's dark as hell, and they have slowed their pace as the hallway just leads them into thicker shadows. It's lined with vases on stands, some holding the remains of plants, some empty. Spiderwebs are delicately placed on every single one, some weaving around the dead and shriveled leaves and when Dean shakes one, he hears a sloshing sound come from within. </p><p>The hunter's laugh echoes and he peeks over the edge, motioning to Sam, "I'll give you a hundred dollars if you take one sip of that stuff."</p><p>His younger brother blinks in disbelief, "The hell would I do that for?"</p><p>Suddenly there's a massive crash behind him and Sam jumps, spinning around before Dean grabs his jacket and yanks him backward. The older Winchester takes the spot in front, eyes narrowed, staring at the vase that had crashed to the ground, far enough away that Sam's bag wouldn't have tipped it. The smirk is gone from the older hunter's face, finger tight on the trigger, ready to get a shot off.</p><p>There's a loud whine in Sam's pocket from the EMF detector that he had turned off minutes ago, making them both jump. The next vase falls then, that one with a plant inside, the dirt spreading across the ground like a wave in between the shattered ceramic. Dean's hand reaches behind him and curls around Sam's jacket beginning to push him backward as he moves down the hallway as well, the vase closest to them tipping off it's stand and slamming into the wood floor. </p><p>"Back up," Dean hisses, hand out protectively as the next vase closest to them falls. </p><p>"I am backing up," Sam whispers back, hand curled in the strap of his brother's duffle. They take another step away and the next one tumbles to the ground, the ceramic pieces rolling towards Dean's foot. The two brothers back up faster as the pottery start falling.</p><p>The crashes get louder and quicker as the row of vases, one after the other, tip and crash to the ground, the floor littered with pieces of shattered pottery. The EMF is screaming in his pocket as Sam's back hits the wall; they've stumbled nearly the length of the hallway. The last vase shatters right in front of them and they both look down at it. The EMF cuts off mid shriek and Sam pulls it out, the device not even on.</p><p>"Fantastic," The older hunter scoffs and raises his gun, scanning both hallways since they're now backed into a corner. </p><p>"Well that doesn't happen everyday," Sam says quietly, looking at the trail of broken ceramic in their wake. After a second of tense waiting, heartbeats steady but muscles tense, nothing happens. Dean's hold loosens on Sam's jacket and he points down the hallway they just came before motioning to the other one. </p><p>Sam nods and lifts his gun, Dean walking down the newest hallway cautiously, the younger hunter following but walking backward so nothing can follow them. "Did it just drop thirty degrees for you?" he asks over his shoulder, a chill running down his spine. The walls are rotting, plaster curled up on itself, cracks weaving all the way down the hallway in staggered lines, and the silence is deafening. Despite the flashlights, the hallway seemed to keep them in relative darkness out of sheer spite. </p><p>"Yeah it's getting a little chilly," Dean says back, gun raised, his breath forming a cloud in front of him. "And since I'm gonna guess the AC is busted, if there even was one, that means that somethings in here with us. In case you couldn't tell two seconds ago with the vases." Sam scoffs in agreement and Dean grumbles, "You see anything on your end?"</p><p>Sam's eyes narrows as he scans the hallway he's been facing while walking backwards, scanning the foyer. "No, noth-" His heart seizes as something catches his eye and Sam tenses, sucking in a breath. A figure in the center of the hallway sprints into one of the rooms they had crossed a second ago, disappearing through the door, long hair flowing behind her. Sam jumps and elbows his brother, not taking his eyes off the spot. "Dean." </p><p>"Where?" Dean spins immediately, gun raised, eyes narrowed. </p><p>"Other hallway, crossed into one of the rooms," Sam said.</p><p>Suddenly there's a low creak and the door directly to their left opens slowly, just a crack, and the small sliver of what they can see is pretty much complete darkness. Both Winchesters turn in unison, raising their guns, but nothing else happens.</p><p>"Hey Sam?" Dean asks.</p><p>"What," he hisses.</p><p>"When is a door not a door?"</p><p>"Shut up."</p><p>Dean steps forward and pushes it open with his foot, stepping back, ready to take a shot. Nothing pounces out, nothing is revealed except darkness. They shine their flashlights inside, clouds of dust revealed in the light and stay where they are, breathing slightly faster than normal. </p><p>"Well that's not creepy at all," Dean said slowly, and there was an edge to his voice.</p><p>Sam checks down the hallway he had been focusing on before the door opened and sees nothing, turning back to the room. "Well one of us has to go first," he whispers softly, eyes trained on the center of the doorway. </p><p>"Fine, I'll go if you're scared," Dean turns to face him and smiles, starting forward. </p><p>Sam reaches and grabs his jacket, stopping him, "I never said I was scared. Move. I'm going."</p><p>"I said I'd go," Dean said innocently, shooting the hallway Sam had pointed down a quick look to see if whatever Sam had caught sight of was watching them. From the minute Dean had stepped in this house he felt like someone was watching him. He hated it. </p><p>Sam glares at him, snapping him back to reality when he announces, "I'm going."</p><p>"Okay. Go," Dean falls in line behind him before he jabs his flashlight lightly into the small of his back, making his younger brother jump. Sam scowls over his shoulder and hisses, "For the love of God, Dean."</p><p>"There was fuzz, scaredy cat," Dean lies. </p><p>"Yeah, sure," Sam grumbles before he enters the room, swiping his flashlight side to side. He turns and sees a switch on the wall. Not really expecting a result, he flicks it up and down a couple times and sure enough, nothing happens. A hand slowly curls around his collar and this time, Sam doesn't jump, he just glares straight ahead, cursing the person behind him. "Dean, it's not funny."</p><p>"Dude, I'm not touching you," Dean says with a confused look from a couple feet away. Sam scrambles towards him in shock, his stomach flipping, waving his flashlight around only to see an empty corner. Dean has no choice other than to keep him from falling as his brother crashes into him and exclaims, "What the hell, Sam?"</p><p>"Something grabbed the back of my collar," Sam cursed, breathing hard, reaching around to rub the back of his neck self consciously. He continued to search with the flashlight to search for whatever had curled it's fingers around his shirt, finding nothing.  </p><p>"Oooo maybe the ghost has a crush on you," Dean grins, waving the flashlight beneath his face to cast a shadow on his smile. "She's got bad taste." </p><p>"Real mature," Sam says to him, moving forward as he shone the light on the walls, passing by a bookcase coated in dust, pages stiff, shelves warped. He passes by a mirror and winces at the reflection of the flashlight before he does a double take. Sam squints before his eyes widen and he shouts, "DEAN!"</p><p>There's something behind his brother, reaching for his arm. He doesn't know what, but there is, silhouetted in the light he's shining in the mirror and Sam spins in time to make eye contact with it, bringing his gun up. The woman's eyes widen and the older hunter is tossed backwards. Dean goes flying with a yell, straight through the door, his back slamming into the wall in the hallway. He hits the ground with a groan and Sam's finger tightens on the trigger, getting a shot off, the ghost disappearing. </p><p>Dean groans in the hallway, shaking his head to probably clear the stars, looking up from his elbows, "Sam, get out of there-"</p><p>"Where is it?" Sam demands, spinning with the gun, finger on the trigger. The ghost flashes again in the corner and Sam doesn't think, he doesn't even acknowledge the growing anger on her face that wasn't there before as he fired, the woman dissolving into mist. </p><p>"Sammy-"</p><p>Sam makes a quick millisecond of eye contact with his brother before his flashlight flickers out, Sam looking down at it in shock, suddenly engulfed in darkness. Then, to put the nail in the coffin, the door slams shut, trapping him inside. </p><p> </p><p>Dean scrambled to his feet in the hallway with a choked cry, pressing his hand against his head with a groan, staggering forward. Adrenaline was pumping now and Dean's chest heated up in anger as he put all his weight against the door that had just closed, keeping his brother inside with whatever had just effortlessly booted him out. He shoves his shoulder into the old wood, wondering why this splintering piece of crap wouldn't break. He tries the handle and yells, "SAMMY!" </p><p>Taking a step back he slams his foot against the center before he brings the butt of the gun down against the handle, breaking it off. He tries the door again, pounding fiercely with a harsh yell of, "SAM!" Nothing.</p><p>"Crap," Dean hisses in a panic, grabbing one of the iron pokers from his duffle, sliding it in between the door and the wall before pushing it forward as hard as he possibly can. </p><p> </p><p>When the gun flies from his hands, Sam knows he's screwed. He reaches around for his bag which is suddenly ripped off his shoulder and a force hits him straight in the chest, sending him flying backward. He doesn't hit the ground like his brother, instead he slams into a chair, a dust cloud rising up. Sam's momentum makes the legs rock back, and he nearly tips, before it clatters back onto all fours. Sam is breathing hard, and his chest only rises and falls faster once he realizes he can't move. </p><p>The ghost flickers in front of him and he sees a woman he recognizes, with long black hair, blood stained on the side of her head. She looks mad now, and Sam is shocked to realize then and there that she hadn't looked angered in the beginning, but scared. But what shocks him even more is that he knows her, he's seen her. </p><p>"I know you," Sam whispers, searching for any sign of recognition in the lifeless eyes. "I- I know you. I read your missing report- Amanda, right? Amanda?" </p><p>The girl shakes her head as she starts forward, her voice soft, hurt rippling across her face as she appears a foot in front of him, "You don't know me-"</p><p>"No- no," Sam stutters, trying to recover from his mistake.</p><p>"I wanted to help," she whispers before there's a sudden tightness in Sam's chest. He falters, grabbing hold of his panic and pulling with all of his might to keep himself conscious. He looks down and sees the woman's hand right above his heart, nails digging into his skin. Tears were streaming down her face and she whispered, "Get...out."</p><p>Sam gasped in pain, trying to breathe and finding he couldn't, her grip burning into his chest, his heart feeling like it was clenched by a cold fist. He clenched his hands around the arms of the chair, trying to move as she reached up with her finger. In a shocking realization, he saw where she was looking, the same place where she had dried blood on her forehead and Sam tried to speak, letting out a choked cry. </p><p>"Wait-" he pleaded, feeling her nail gently brush his skin before it made a small cut. "You can help-" he gasps and no precious oxygen is given.</p><p>The woman was crying and she whispered, "Get out-" Her hand is trembling. Sam's face contorted with pain as he squeezed his eyes shut, a small stream of blood trickling down the side of his head. The young hunter twisted as much as he could, gaze filled with pain as he arched his back, his mouth open in a silent scream, lungs that were in desperate need for oxygen, stinging like hell-</p><p>"SAMMY? SAM!"</p><p>On the other side of the door, Dean pressed hard against the poker he had wedged in between the door and the wall in a desperate attempt to get it open, screaming his brother's name. At Dean's yell, the woman faltered with her grip before she looked at Sam who pleaded with his eyes. Then she nodded. </p><p>Sam's throat strained for air as he put aside his confusion from the look he was just given. There was a pounding in his head and a roaring in his ears but none of that mattered; he felt the grasp on his lungs loosen for just a split second. At the given opportunity he only had enough time for one word and Sam choked out, "Dean-"</p><p>Dean Winchester had been trying to wrench that door open as hard as he possibly could, but the minute Sam's voice rang out, that strength tripled. He broke through the door and his flashlight found his brother, every limb tense and straining, choking as he tried to intake oxygen, his face getting red, a woman standing in front of him with on hand on his chest which was practically convulsing, the other- oh God. Blood was dripping from the side of Sam's forehead, his eyes starting to roll upward.</p><p>The older Winchester didn't waste a second. A beautiful and well placed shot rang out, shaking the room.</p><p>"Get-" The ghost dissapeared, her eyes boring into Sam's, practically screaming at him through her gaze, before she dissolved into a mist. Sam sunk into the chair, taking the biggest breath he could to fill his lungs, hands clutching his chest as he slid off of it and collapsed to the ground, coughing. </p><p>Dean was at his side instantly, his salt gun dropping to the floor as he grabbed his shoulder, looking around the room just in case. His tone was harsh as he demanded fiercely, "Sam, you good?"</p><p>"Ah- I'm good, I'm good-" he croaked, letting Dean help him into a sitting position, carding through his sweaty hair. He widened his eyes and sucked in a big breath, coughing towards the end with a wince. "Good shot."</p><p>"Yeah, thanks," Dean snorted, his gaze full of concern when Sam's head bowed down. "Alright, so we've got a ghost. Shocker," he said, putting a hand on his brother's back since he was still swaying a bit. "I didn't get a good look at her, was she hot?" he jokes.</p><p>"She had the same wound as she was giving me," Sam shook his head, blinking harshly, continuing to gulp down air. </p><p>"I asked if she was hot," Dean teased before he winced and reached up to dab at the blood on the side of his younger brother's head with an angry scowl. "Seriously, Sam, are you okay?" </p><p>"It was like she was trying to tell me something. She- she did tell me something. Get out. She said get out," Sam looked up at the older hunter, gripping his arm and shaking his head before realizing that was a bad idea. A wave of nausea hit him and Sam brought his free hand up to his temples, the other gripping Dean's sleeve harder as he groaned, pressing his jacket to the cut in efforts to stop the bleeding. </p><p>Dean cursed and clamped his hand over his sleeve, "Easy. And I'm no english professor, but get out usually means get out."</p><p>Sam saves the nod and closes his eyes, trying to control his thumping heart and ringing ears, "Yeah, but it was like she was warning me. Not threatening. She said she wanted to help. She wasn't mad, Dean, not until I shot her. She could have put a hole in my head in seconds, but instead she took her time."</p><p>"She tried to kill you slowly, and you think that was her helping you," Dean protested incredulously. </p><p>"I- I don't know, I'm just telling you man...the look she gave me," Sam insisted, allowing his brother to pull him to his feet and steady him with a firm grip on his shoulder. </p><p>"Well maybe she cut deeper then we thought and got to your brain, because you're not making any sense," Dean said with a fake smile, patting him on the back and handing him his gun that he retrieved from the floor. "Now, you good? Don't lie to me or I will be the one to beat the crap out of you, not some horny ghost."</p><p>Sam makes a face and blinks, giving him a light nod, "Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. The world's not spinning anymore, so that's a win. And it's a dark blob instead of a bright blob."</p><p>"Progress," Dean nods back, still watching him warily. Then he frowns. "Next time listen to me and get out of the room," the older Winchester grumbled at him, shooting him a look. </p><p>Sam gave him a weak smile, "You were worried."</p><p>"I was not," Dean corrected lowly, looking around the room before motioning for his brother to follow him out. He checked that the hallway was clear before he and Sam started forward towards the steps. Dean let Sam go first so he could keep an eye on him, muttering, "You get stuck somewhere again, I'm leaving you there to fend for yourself."</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Ya yeet idk why i love this prompt so much but i do and i loved writing this teehee<br/>I hope you enjoyed! Please drop a comment or kudos and have an awesome day &lt;3 &lt;3<br/>Part 2 coming soon! :)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Haunted House Part 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>okay so coming up is some plot stuff that make_your_own_world and I thought of a while ago...its sitting in a google doc and i was like YES BET. So kudos to my best friend who is a MUCH better writer than me so check out her stuff its incredible im serious and lets see if they recognize a bit of this XD</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>HI AWESOME READERS SORRY THIS IS LATE<br/>I am so so screwed when I have to dive into a marvel fic XD<br/>I do hope you like this one tho it was fun to write although its super crazy and i had a lot of coffee....so. There's the summary. I was thinking, im gonna have no time to write tomorrow....so i gotta finish this tonight. And then i DID! So thats a first. Back in the old days I was writing 10k chapters in 5 days. How? Idk. Dont ask.<br/>ANYWAY I hope you all are doing well and staying healthy, enjoy this.<br/>Dean shoots a chair.<br/>There's a dobby ghost.<br/>Tables turn.<br/>And rly gruesome death. So there's your...warning. For anyone that doesnt like gruesome deaths. Im exaggerating its not that bad but if you envision it i guess it is. But yall are supernatural fans ur used to it- theres only 2 eps where someone doesnt die. So. That's that.<br/>Oh also im super dying because this show which is basically my will to live, ends thursday. So Im depressed and contemplating every single decision that doesnt seem to have meaning anymore. Am i being dramatic? Yes. No. Not all all. Yes.<br/>Read on!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"You get stuck somewhere again, I'm leaving you there to fend for yourself."</p><p>Sam looked behind him at his brother who was scowling and managed a smirk, nodding, "Yeah, okay."</p><p>Dean made a face as they shouldered the wall as a habit, "Don't say 'yeah, okay' like yeah okay."</p><p>The younger Winchester peaked around the corner to see if it was clear, ignoring the mold and rotting wood inches away from his face. "Yeah, okay," Sam grinned, starting forward. </p><p>His older brother mumbled something about annoying little brothers and regretting bringing him here before he moved forward to Sam's side. The hunters slowed their pace, maneuvering around the broken vases and dirt, their shoes crunching on some of the smaller bits of ceramic, bringing them back to the main foyer. Sam and Dean raised their guns and flashlights, Sam's working again after a few harsh smacks with his palm.</p><p>"So if she died in the house, that means her body is in the house. Meaning once we find and burn her body, she'll be set free, right?" Dean said cautiously as they stopped in the foyer, patting the duffel which had the salt and gasoline. His lucky lighter was in his pocket.  </p><p>Sam nodded with a shrug, "Think so. And not just her, but everyone else who we haven't gotten the privilege to meet yet. Their bodies are in here too."</p><p>"Okay, so...all we have to do is find some bones. A lot of them. This should be fun," Dean smiled fakely as he shone the flashlight down the hallway, the light not quite reaching to the end. He glanced at the steps to their right and motioned for them with a questioning look, "You want to try upstairs? </p><p>"Why not," Sam sighed, taking a step forward before he frowned, a small harsh ring meeting his ears. Dean stopped and raised an eyebrow and Sam put up a finger, looking side to side for the origination of the new noise he was hearing. There was a small squeaking sound, like old metal that hadn't been oiled. He pointed in no particular direction, "You hear that?"</p><p>"Yeah," Dean said in agreement after a second, his brow furrowing. The older hunter spun full circle, swiping the corners of the room with his flashlight and finding nothing. The door was still tightly shut, and the wind was non existent tonight. Sam craned his neck up slowly and as his eyes widened, his hand grasped blindly, hitting his brother on the chest until he got his attention. "What- what?" Dean complained before he followed his younger sibling's gaze. </p><p>Sam barely had time to cock his head in confusion before he realized what the sound was, his grip on Dean's jacket tightening as his legs began to move backward. The older Winchester turned in sync with him, understanding immediately and letting out a harsh curse as they both scrambled for the steps. </p><p>"Go, go, go-" the brothers dove forward to about the tenth step as the massive chandelier dropped from the ceiling. They brought up their jacket sleeves and covered their heads as it hit the ground, shaking the house and sending shards of glass flying everywhere. Sam felt the small pieces shower down on his hair and back and he squeezed his eyes shut, the stairs trembling beneath him. He felt Dean's hand clench on his back before smacking his shoulder. Sam got to his feet along his brother, looking at the mess of glass and splintered wood.</p><p>"So far so good," Dean grinned, Sam chuckling lightly as they surveyed the damage. "So we got a pissed off Dobby ghost," the older Winchester muttered, raising his gun as they started slowly backing up the staircase. </p><p>"I didn't know you watched Harry Potter," Sam responded, eyes scanning the room for any sign of a flickering ghost. There was no doubt that chandelier was old and rusty, so it made sense that it fell, but it was slightly too coincidental for the two of them. Nevertheless, the temperature was still normal, and both flashlights were still bright. </p><p>"Of course I watched Harry Potter. I saw them all before you," Dean snorted, his eyes still narrowed as they made it to the small landing. "You see anything? You got the special guest appearance last time, that's why I'm asking."</p><p>"Nah," Sam shook his head. </p><p>The upper level was one more staircase up, two ways of getting up to the same location that somehow looked more coated in shadows then where they were standing. They picked the right stairway and started up it slowly, avoiding the stairs that looked like they would cave if one more speck of dust was set on them. Once they reached the top, both of their flashlights were started to flicker. A chill hit them and Dean clenched his gun, "I'm getting real tired of this."</p><p>"It's a haunted house, Dean, what did you think would happen?" Sam hissed. The light from the stain glass and crystallized windows created odd shadows on his older sibling's face as he turned, but Sam saw the concern in his eyes, even in the dark. </p><p>"Whatever. Stay close this time," Dean hissed, his breath coming out in a small cloud. He started walking down the hallway very slowly, shining the light to the floor every couple of seconds so he didn't trip on any of the clutter covering the hallways. Spiderwebs lined the sides and the banister was in pieces, scattered everywhere. The floor creaked beneath them both, but a small chill up his spine made Sam stop. </p><p>He froze in his tracks and turned very slowly. He didn't jump when he saw the woman standing about 30 feet behind him. Instead, his expression calmed and he took his finger off the trigger. "Amanda?" he said quietly. </p><p>Dean spun behind him and stormed forward with a quick curse, Sam acting immediately, his hand lashing out and grabbing the barrel of the shotgun the minute he got the chance. "Dean, stop!" he insisted, wrestling to gain the upper hand. </p><p>"Sam, what the hell are you thinking?" Dean yelled at him, yanking for the gun. </p><p>Sam looped his arm firmly around it, hand twisted in his brother's coat, fumbling for the flashlight that was thrashing around, light streaming on every angle in the room during the struggle. </p><p>"Just trust me! Trust me on this one, Dean, please!" Sam demanded, his brother shoving him off with a furious glare. Sam put up his hands, giving him a pleading look and although his brother didn't like it, Dean frowned, raised the gun to chest level, slipped his finger into the trigger hole, but he didn't fire. </p><p>"He almost killed you," Amanda said, peaking over the side at the remains of the chandelier. So that wasn't her. It was someone else. Someone who was messing with them, who didn't want them here, or wanted them dead. The same force probably who shut the door and did the whole vase fiasco. </p><p>The woman's flickering form glanced at him warily and Sam gave her a warm smile, "We don't go down that easy. Can you maybe talk to me? He won't shoot. I won't either, okay?" When she nods he tries for another smile before lowering his voice and asking, "You didn't kill me downstairs. You could have. Why was that?"</p><p>She cocked her head and frowned, mumbling plainly, "I want to help."</p><p>"You want to help me?" Sam nodded, his heart pounding. "Why?"</p><p>"Get out. Get him out," she whispered harshly. </p><p>Sam's brow knit at the new choice of words. Get <em>him </em>out. Sam followed her gaze which led to a very shocked older Winchester, the shotgun barrel dipping for only a second. Sam licked his lips and asked with a slight stutter, looking backwards at his brother, "Y-you want to get Dean out? Why?"</p><p>Amanda opened her mouth, then shut it. She flickered again and Sam cursed internally. He was losing her. "I'm sorry I shot you," he blurted out. "I know you were trying to help. Me and my brother can help <em>you</em>. But you have to tell me what you know." There's so much hope in her eyes that gleam like they're welling with tears. The lump in her throat bobs and she sighs, trying to find words before hanging her head. </p><p>Sam steels himself and steps forward. </p><p>"Sam." The voice sounds from behind him before his foot even touches the ground. Dean's trigger finger tugs dangerously, warning his brother. </p><p>"Dean," Sam says back with a quick glance over his shoulder. There's fury and fear written all over the older hunter's face and he's warning him not to, he's glaring with such anger that he can see the flicker of fear beneath it. Sam does his best to extinguish the flames aimed at him with the small second of eye contact. He raises his hands slowly after setting the gun on the ground. Then he faces Amanda, "I'm not here to hurt you. Why do you want to help Dean?"</p><p>"He'll come for him," she whispers and she flickers again, eyes widening- almost as if she was shaking. </p><p>"W-who?" Sam asks as gently as possible but he's begging for this answer before she disappears again. </p><p>"I just want to help," she sobs to him, tears welling in her eyes, practically pleading with Sam. </p><p>"If you wanted to help then why did you try and dig a hole into my brother's head?" Dean snarls from behind him, taking a step forward with a fiery glare. </p><p>Amanda doesn't step back from his advance, but she does flinch, her form shuddering. She gives Sam an compassionate look and starts forward, walking through the clutter on the floor, coming to a stop a foot from him, a little close for his liking. That's before she brings her hand up with a pained look in her eyes.</p><p>"Don't-" Dean snarls. </p><p>Sam reaches behind him without moving his main frame, gripping the barrel of the gun his brother had just raised. With a genuine frown, she hovers over the wound she had made earlier, before she stares into his questioning eyes. Dean's breathing faster than Sam, keeping a steady hand on the gun he could rip up at any moment.</p><p>Amanda's gaze narrows and when Sam blinks she is a couple feet back all of a sudden, like shuttering pictures on a camera. Her eyes are lowered to the floor and her voice is quiet, "He'd punish me if I didn't. He's not coming for you. Now you can blend in. We all have them," she points to her head.</p><p>"Who's he?" Sam asks softly. </p><p>"Yeah, I'm not buying this crap," Dean snarls, wrestling for the gun. </p><p>Amanda's form flickers and she doesn't answer. Her gaze raises for a split second to look Dean over with pity and then she disappears, leaving the hunters in an empty hallway. Sam turns on his brother the same time as Dean storms forward, shoving his gun that he had dropped back into his chest. </p><p>"Good job, Dean, real smooth," Sam muttered, wincing as the butt of the gun dug into his ribs.</p><p>"Might I remind you, she put her nail through your head?" Dean swore, pointing a harsh finger at the dried blood on Sam's temple. </p><p>"You heard her. She's scared of someone," Sam insisted, motioning behind him vaguely. </p><p>Dean looked at him in disbelief, "You're trusting a ghost?"</p><p>"She's trying to help!" Sam yelled. "And not trying to help me, by the way, she said she was trying to help you!"</p><p>"Right," his brother nodded sarcastically, widening his eyes. "So when she was about to grab my arm, she wasn't about to throw me across the room, no, she wanted to know my number!" </p><p>Sam pursed his lips and rolled his eyes dramatically, "Okay now you're just-"</p><p>"I mean, hell, I'm attractive to the undead," Dean winked, but there was no humor in his drawl.</p><p>Sam squeezed his eyes shut and spluttered, "I don't know, Dean, why don't you ask her to explain since she's right- oh wait," he let out a dry laugh and snarled, "you scared her off by waving a shotgun in her face."  </p><p>Dean's glare flashed dangerously, "Oh, I'm sorry, that's right, we're supposed to sit ghosts down for a cup of tea-"</p><p>The upstairs was split into two large sections, rooms cluttered on either side. In the middle was the strip of landing, complete with banisters, although only half still stood. In other places there was nothing barricading the drop off that overlooked the downstairs foyer. The walls were eaten away, picture frames that had once hung on the sides of the hall on the ground, cracks spiraling from their glass frames. They were coated with a thick layer of dust and cobwebs, bugs scrambling for the shadows as a chill passed through the air. </p><p>And as the brothers reached the climax of their argument, Dean reaching furiously to grab the front of Sam's coat, his brother staring back with an equally fierce glare, every single door in the upstairs was suddenly hit with an unseen force. The hinges flew off and clattered to the ground, that was what first got the attention of the two hunters- the sound of metal clanging to the ground all around them. And then the wood doors tipped slowly, thudding onto the floor in roaring unison.</p><p>Dean uncurled his hands from Sam's coat and shoved him not so gently. They both let out curses, looking down either hallway which was now a bridge of doors, dust spewing out like a cloud when they shone their flashlights in either direction. Sam and Dean were back to back, standing still in the silence, the previous anger forgotten by them, but not by the dark corners in the house that echoed their yells. </p><p>Dean's eyes were alert and narrowed, his heartbeat steady as his hand suddenly closed around his gun tighter. He kept his gaze trained and calmly hissed, "Sammy-"</p><p>It just so happened that at the same time Dean had seen the ghost, a flickering figure peak out from behind the wall near the corner, Sam had whispered his name as well. The older Winchester cursed and he glanced quickly, asking, "You saw one too?"</p><p>"Yeah," Sam grumbled.</p><p>They both looked over their shoulders for no more than a second, time enough to have a short moment of understanding, Dean nodding slowly, "You got your phone on?"</p><p>Sam patted his pocket and nodded before shooting him a look, "Don't get dead."</p><p>"Yeah, you too," Dean said quickly as they started forward down opposite sides of the hall. </p><p> </p><p>Dean hated leaving his brother alone on any hunt. He had hated it since they were kids. Back when John had first taken Sam with them, Dean had hardly let him out of his reach, let alone his sight. But as Sam grew up and they were forced to separate, Dean had to drill the fact that Sam could take care of himself and that he didn't need to be there to protect him, into his own thick skull.  </p><p>That did not mean he couldn't have a bad attitude about it though. So Dean's frown stayed firm as he walked, easing himself onto the first door that was splayed in the middle of the hallway, tilting on it just for fun, before checking in the empty room next to it. His flashlight revealed a rocking chair and Dean blinked as it started moving back and forth with small creaks. </p><p>"Love that," he muttered, waiting for something to pop out and throw him halfway down the hall. Instead, he was met with silence. He stepped into the room, his foot hitting a dust coated picture frame to the side. He jumped with a yelp, immediately clearing his throat and looking around to see if any ghost had been watching. Dean grumbled and kicked it across the floor before turning to the rocking chair which had not stopped moving.</p><p>The hunter stared at it for a couple seconds with a growing frown before he slides his foot underneath the leg to stop it from tilting backward. Then he slowly moved back his shoe and waited a second, grinning triumphantly at the chair that remained still. He turned around and heard a creaking noise and Dean sighed dramatically, looking behind him at the chair that had started rocking again. He puts his hand out and stops it, but as soon as his fingers leave the wood it moves forward again. Dean holds one side down for a good two seconds and waits, slowly removing his foot and raising his eyebrow. It doesn't move and he chuckles, his face falling as it tips forwards and backwards. </p><p>"Screw you," he decided, firing the salt gun, the chair exploding into splinters.</p><p>He's soaking in his victory up until he hears his phone ring in his jeans, immediately following the shot. He digs it out and puts it to his ear, wincing at the yell, <em>"Dean!"</em></p><p>"What!" he grumbled.</p><p><em>"What was that?"</em> Sam's voice was muffled, but he could still hear the audible confusion. </p><p>"What do you mean what was that?" he scoffs in response, "It was me!"</p><p>
  <em>"Was it a ghost?"</em>
</p><p>"No!"</p><p>Pause.</p><p>
  <em>"Then what the hell was it?"</em>
</p><p>"A chair," Dean says back halfheartedly, rubbing the back of his neck as he shifts his weight, doing a last sweep around the room.</p><p>Another pause.</p><p><em>"Do I want to know?"</em> Sam asked.</p><p>"No," Dean decides smartly, grumbling loudly, "Just stay in your hallway."</p><p>
  <em>"But-"</em>
</p><p>"Don't talk to me."</p><p>
  <em>"You fired a gun-"</em>
</p><p>"Shut up!" Dean hung up, slipping the phone back in his pocket before he walked out of the room. The hunter checked the hallway, left and right, before stepping back out and wishing there was some power in this place. The air was practically coated with dust and he scrunched up his nose. It was when he heard the noise at the end of the hallway laced in shadows that he quickly moved forward, whipping around the corner and aiming his gun. </p><p>There's a man, in his twenties, at the end of the hallway, sitting on the floor with his knees to his chest, the same head wound as Amanda had. He's shaking and he looks up at the hunter in fear, his form flickering but he doesn't disappear, he just stares at him. </p><p>The older Winchester levels the gun with lightning fast reflexes, eyes narrowing, finger nearly pulling the trigger. But the man flinches. And something in his gaze makes him lower the barrel. Dean frowns and and asks roughly, "Who are you?"</p><p>The man looks up, his eyes wide, puppy eyes like Sam has, and he whispers, "I'm Liam."</p><p>"You're Liam," Dean nodded, vaguely remembering that name from what Sam was rambling about on their trek here. He keeps the gun tight in his hands, finger itching to pull the trigger as he bites the inside of his cheek and then growls, "So are you gonna dig out my brains like that other chick?"</p><p>"No," Liam shakes his head, his form flickering. </p><p>"Good. Because if you try, I'll shoot you," Dean smiles fakely. Then he sighs and says, "I'm here to help. Me and my brother can help put you to rest. There are a lot of spirits in this house. You got any idea who's killing people?"</p><p>"You have a brother?" the man whispered quietly.</p><p>He sounds so...broken. Dean's face falls and he cocks his head in question, "What happened to you, Liam?" </p><p>"I- I was here with <em>my</em> brother. My older brother. He made me come, he said he would protect me. Ever since we were kids he kept me safe, like it was his job, you know? And then he just..." he whispered, putting his head in his hands as his shoulders started shaking. </p><p>Dean's gun dipped even more. There was a small tug in his stomach and he frowned, watching the barrel fall to his side. Every muscle was screaming for him to raise the gun, to shoot, and yet every muscle was also telling him not to. He got a chill down his back, not a 'oh there's a breeze' chill, or one of those random ones you get that make you shudder...the kind of chill he got when he knew Sam was hurt, or in danger. Something that made him stop in his tracks only for a split second before jumping into action. </p><p>"Do you want to tell me what happened?" Dean asked slowly, looking around to make sure no one was behind him. When he turned back his gaze found the broken man in front of him, his world twisted as the rug was ripped out from under him even after death. The innocence and the pain was rippling off this man in waves and Dean honestly had no idea what to do. </p><p>Liam raised his head and tears trickled down his cheeks. He was shaking. The man was only a couple years younger than Dean, but what he saw was a scared little boy who had been thrown a curve ball when he was betrayed by the one person tasked to keep him safe. Dean knew the story before he told it, but that didn't make it hurt any less.</p><p>"What happened was my brother didn't protect me," Liam snarled, his voice cracking. "He let me get hurt. He let me die. And- and I trusted him. I looked up to him my whole life. He said he was always there for me." The man shook his head, blinking away the tears before clearing his throat. "You wouldn't get it. No one gets it."</p><p>He looks around in distaste, like he hated this place as much as Dean did. The walls, the floors, the cobwebs, the broken glass, the shadows that wouldn't leave you alone, the corners that were echo chambers for silence, the empty space that was somehow intimidating- all of it. And yet he was forced to stay here. Trapped because he had died, unable to leave because his body was rotting here somewhere, and he was forced to be alone. </p><p>"No, do get it," Dean said, avoiding eye contact but trying to pour sincerity into his voice. "Sam is my younger brother. I've been looking out for him since the day he was born. Pulled him from a fire when he was only a couple months old," he chuckled to himself. He looked up at Liam who was staring at him intently, drinking in every word. "Your older brother screwed up. He should have protected you," Dean said angrily. He had a sudden fury for the man that had left his brother alone, in pain, suffering. He knew better, his father had told him the minute Dean was able to say 'yes sir' that Sam was his responsibility and if anything happened to him, it was his fault. To know that an older brother left his younger sibling vulnerable sent waves of anger through his chest and he curled his fists, shaking his head.</p><p>"There's reason for you to be pissed," Dean told him firmly. "This was his fault. But I can help you, I just need you to tell me where your body is and who killed you."</p><p> </p><p>Sam had long turned the corner and had checked the rest of the hall, scanning every inch of the walls and rooms with the beam from his flashlight. He finally made it to a spiral staircase on the back end that seemed to descend into darkness and paused, unsure if he should go down or not. Dean hadn't called him and he hadn't heard any more shots, so that meant his older brother hadn't found anything except a chair- still not sure what that was about. So they had nothing.</p><p>He looked behind him doubtfully and sure enough he had lost sight of the other hallway a while ago. He bit his lip, shining the light down the metal stairs, greeted by nothing but the usual- dust, rotting wood, and a staircase that was not promising in the slightest. It looked like it would fall over or just collapse with a flick.</p><p>"Go."</p><p>Sam spins around and he sees a man, in his twenties, blood on the side of his head. He doesn't attack. His eyes are wide, not narrowed and Sam lowers his gun and knits his eyebrows, "Is...is something down there?"</p><p>The man nods slowly in response, before looking to his side. On cue, Amanda suddenly appear next to him in a quick flicker and she nods as well, pointing slowly.</p><p>"What's- what is?" Sam stammered in confusion.</p><p>"Him," Amanda whispered simply. </p><p>Sam's eyes narrowed and he looked over the banister at the long staircase that didn't seem to have an end. He pointed vaguely to the darkness, "Down there, that's who's killed you. Both of you. And anyone else in here?"</p><p>Both of them nodded. Sam hefted his gun and took a step forward. Cautiously, he reached his hand out and clasped the rail, shaking it. A long creak sounded all the way down to the bottom of the stairs as it swayed beneath his grasp and the younger hunter let out a halfhearted chuckle. "Okay. I'm really doing this, great."</p><p>He glanced behind him at the waiting man and woman and sighed, shining the light down the steps. Then he clenched his teeth and started down the staircase, immediately having to steady himself as the structure shook beneath him. </p><p>Keeping a firm grip on the rail, ignoring the feeling of cobwebs and things that were 100% alive beneath his fingers, he made his way down. He realized as he went that this was overlooking the end of the left hallway in the downstairs. It was a clear shot to the door if you descended down these stairs and then ran straight and took a right. The air got colder as he went down, his heart dropping with every step as the stairs moaned louder and louder, which was not comforting in the slightest. Sam tried to balance his weight out by standing in the center, but he needed a grip on something stable at all times. Not that the railing was helpful; it crumbled beneath his hand at one point and Sam cursed, flicking the spiders that were trying to crawl into his sleeve. </p><p>He shuddered and moved the flashlight around, looking at his surroundings, the windows caked with grime and dust, trees scratching against them like nails on a chalkboard, making him wince. Sam moved it to a ledge below a broken hanging clock and saw a rat carcass, scrunching up his nose. He sighed as he looked up at the long spiral from where he had started; he was about halfway down at this point. Breathing in the musty air he muttered, "Nice." </p><p>And then suddenly, there was someone on the staircase with him. Sam jumped, grabbing hold of the railing as a man tore past him, breathing hard, eyes wide with pure terror, running straight through Sam's shoulder. Gasping, the younger hunter scrambled back, falling backwards onto the step he was on, aiming his gun propped up on his leg, hand wrapped around the railing nearest, but it was clear that the man was not attacking, no, he was running for his life. </p><p>There was a shout- no, more like a strangled scream, a plead, "Wait! Johnathan, wait! Wait for me! Johnathan!" </p><p>Sam watched the man's feet move faster as he sobbed, tearing down the staircase, barely holding the rail. Breathing hard, Sam kicked away from a massive spider that scuttled over his shoe and got to his feet, searching for some way to see what was happening below him. He leaned as much as he dared over the railing, shining the flashlight down the spiraling steps. Sam watched, confusion and fear setting in before his heart lept to his chest. His eyes bugged and Sam screamed, "Wait, NO!" </p><p>The man tripped with a horrible sound from the back of his throat and Sam let out a choked cry as he heard the crunch of his ankle breaking instantly, then his knee slamming into the step as he fell headfirst, fingers snapping as he tried to stop his fall, his body crumpling as it practically formed around the stairs, bones breaking- no- shattering. His face hit the rail with a loud clang and Sam's jaw dropped in horror before he averted his eyes, squeezing them shut at the gruesome death that only got worse through the sounds as the man tumbled down the rest of the stairs. The young Winchester managed to pry his gaze up to watch as, if not dead already, the unrecognizable body fell down the last step, his head slamming hard into the edge of the metal with a clang that shook the stair case. Blood pooled from his temple, and his finger twitched, eyes wide and staring.</p><p>Then all of it just dissapeared, as if it never even happened, everything dissolving into the air with a flicker. Sam, gasping for air through tight lungs, eyes wide, looked over the railing, shining the light to the bottom of the steps. He gulped once, getting his bearings, and then his limbs unlocked. Sam scrambled down as fast as he dared, making sure not to fall, tightly gripping the rail, brushing off the bugs that tried to scuttle over his hands. He made it to the bottom and he stopped, catching his breath, moving the flashlight to where he had last seen the man's body, which had dissapeared. In it's place was a scattered pile of degraded bones and Sam groaned slightly, knowing not all of them would be there. This was a body nearly impossible to put to rest.</p><p>Sam's gaze snapped up as he jumped, instinctively moving backward at the noise. The vision had started again, hearing the clatter of the staircase, but this time, someone ran by him first, someone he hadn't seen originally, an older man, who looked very similar to the one who was desperately running after him-</p><p>"Wait! Johnathan, wait! Wait for me! Johnathan!"</p><p>Johnathan tore past Sam and dissapeared as he ran into thin air, leaving the room. Sam flinched as the man coming down the stairs tripped with that same awful, bloodcurdling yell and the young hunter staggered back in shock as the man's broken body tumbled down the metal stairs before hitting the last step, temple cracked open, red liquid gushing out. His baseball cap rolled off towards the corner and Sam approached his body slowly, the blood streaming from the wound in his temple. His eyes were fixed and open, staring at the spot that the other older man had sprinted to, broken and twisted finger raised in his direction as well.</p><p>"It's a death echo," Sam whispered, wincing at the twisted body that lay before him in a pool of his own blood. He jumped as Amanda and that other man appeared next to him and he pointed at the twisted and lifeless form, "He didn't die from a ghost. I read about him...he was the first to go missing in this house. But-" Sam looked around, in confusion, "But there was no ghost, he just fell down the stairs. And who ran past him? He just left him alone, he didn't care that he fell- did he even turn back?" he protested in disbelief, his thoughts moving way faster than his words.</p><p>Amanda's jaw clenched and she whispered, "No."</p><p>Sam scoffed in anger before he asked thoughtfully, "He looked like him, that was his brother, right?" Amanda nodded and Sam nodded back, wheels turning in his head as he tried to sort all this out. "Okay, so Johnathan was the older brother. He left him here, to die. And he, he didn't die from a ghost at all, he was the first, which means there was no lore, the house wasn't haunted when he came-" Sam pointed at the body that was limp on the ground, never going to move again. "What's his name? I know him, I read-"</p><p>"Liam," Braden snarled. </p><p>"Liam," Sam repeated. "Liam killed you. He killed both of you. He's where it all started," the younger hunter whispered, looking between the two of them. The nods he got were curt. Sam exhaled and shifted his footing, gaze falling on the staircase, self consciously touching the side of his head, looking down at the wound on Liam's temple which sent blood spreading across the floor in a rippling wave of red. </p><p> </p><p>"Just so you know, your older brother died. Yeah- Sam read about him in a paper. I'm- I'm sorry, I just thought you should...if that means anything," Dean said awkwardly as he made his way down the hallway. He clutched his gun tightly, in case any more ghosts showed up, but so far, they had all wanted to help. Granted, he had been a little not on team dead, but there was someone killing people. An enemy of an enemy was a friend. Especially when they were hunting something that preyed on younger brothers being abandoned by the sibling that was supposed to take care of them.</p><p>"Of course it doesn't mean anything. He left me for dead," Liam hissed, glaring behind him, but he tensed at the news Dean gave him.</p><p>"Why though?" Dean older hunter asked. "Did you see the ghost that killed you? Is that what spooked him?" </p><p>"We heard a door slam, we ran. He never looked back," Liam mumbled, looking down as they went down the hallway, his voice laced with pain. Dean could tell he didn't want to go much more into it, and he let the man have his silence, which meant Dean was surprised to hear his voice. "So you and your brother. You do this for a living? You...help, people like me?"</p><p>"Yeah, well you're the kind I don't shoot up with rock salt. There aren't many of you," Dean admitted with a weak smile. </p><p>Liam looked up and nodded fondly, "Oh. Thanks, I guess."</p><p>"Yeah, the others are vengeful spirits. Like the guy who killed you," Dean explained. He motioned to his own temple, "The head thing, it's his signature move, right? The other people who died in here have that same cut on their temple, same spot. That has to mean he died because of a head wound, right?"</p><p>Liam's gaze darkened if that was even possible but he nodded, "It was much more than that."</p><p>"Oh..." Dean trailed off, slowing his step as they turned the corner. He looked behind him and shrugged the change of tone off, muttering, "Okay."</p><p> </p><p>"So Liam is the one killing people, but not everyone. I did a lot of reading last night, there have been people who come in here and leave, just spooked for two seconds. The whole 'step in and you die' thing is fake. There's an agenda. Liam went for both you specifically. There's a pattern," he insisted. "There's always a pattern.  So why?"</p><p>The man looked at Amanda and they looked towards Sam in silence.</p><p>The younger Winchester racked his brain, "Okay, okay, I'll help you out and you just...correct me. I read about Amanda so that makes you...Braden? Are you Braden?" The man nods and Sam takes the small victory, speaking faster as he spews out his thoughts while he can still remember them. "Yes, okay. Before you came here, your friends said this was a dare in an interview," his eyes flicked back and forth as he tried to think, "you had just gotten out of the hospital, right? You had been in a car accident."</p><p>Sam raises his gaze hesitantly and makes his voice as gentle as he can, "You lost your best friend, Michael. Drunk driver, right?'</p><p>"Me," he whispered weakly. </p><p>"You? You what?" Sam frowned. Then it hit him. "Oh. You...you were the drunk driver," he realized. Braden nodded miserably. Sam sat back on his haunches, "You crashed the car. So you come here, and he sees someone who let the person they were supposed to protect die. He goes for you. Because his brother left him, so he preys on the people who remind him of his brother, who have let down a person, no matter the stretch." It was all clicking into place now.</p><p>"And Amanda..." Sam pressed his hand to his temple and squeezes his eyes shut. "Uh, single parent household, your father passed away when you were young which left you and your younger sister with your mom. So why would he go after you?"</p><p>Amanda pulled up her sleeve and Sam straightened when he saw the cigarette burns against her pale skin. Anger and pain swelled in his chest and he made out, "She was abusive."</p><p>Amanda nodded firmly, lips pursed to stop them from trembling. Sam's face fell. "Amanda, did she hurt your sister too?" he said quietly. Amanda didn't answer, her eyes did instead, and the amount of agony revealed then was worse then what it was when she showed him her arm. Sam nodded, his gaze filled with compassion as he lowered his voice, "She got it worse, didn't she? And..." he knew what came next, but didn't want to say it. Sam bit his lip and looked down, unwilling to finish. </p><p>"I didn't say anything sometimes," Amanda whispered, her form flickering. "I didn't protect her as much as I should have, I was so scared."</p><p>"It's not your..." he trailed off in sympathy, shaking his head and swallowing the lump in his throat. He looked between both of them and sobered his voice, "I'll fix this, okay? I need to just- where did he kill you? I can put your bodies to rest if I know where they are."</p><p>"It was dark. It was beneath the house," Amanda said, her voice trembling in more anger than fear. </p><p>"Basement," Sam said with wide eyes, grasping onto the lead he was given and not letting go. "There's a basement."</p><p>"It's where he tortured us," Braden said quietly and when Sam looked at him his form flickered. The young hunter jumped with shock as Braden's flash revealed the extent of the injuries that had been his demise- broken fingers, bashed in face, bloodied head, twisted legs-</p><p>Sam's eyes widened with horror and he whispered, "He recreated his death." </p><p> </p><p>They made it into the back hall and Liam paused, putting a hand out. The fridge slid to the side with a low rattle and Dean noticed the marks on the floor, following the appliance's path perfectly, like it had been shoved aside before. It hit the wall and Liam snapped his fingers, a latch on the ground flicking open with a hollowing sound. Dean knelt with his flashlight, brushing away the dust. He grabbed the rusty handle and pulled, yanking the large section of removable wood up.</p><p>When he did, he nearly dropped it with a cough, gagging at the smell. He staggered back once it was leaning against the wall with a sleeve over his nose, "Oh God. That's great. Really should make a perfume outta that."</p><p>Liam flickered and appeared over the hole before he was gone. Dean looked around the room, scanning with the flashlight and scrunching his nose before he retraced his steps and approached, peering down into the darkness. Liam was standing about twenty feet below, glancing up at him patiently. </p><p>"I knew this place had a basement," Dean swore as he craned his neck, swiping his flashlight down the descending ladder he saw on the side of this very small shaft.</p><p>"You can leave your gun up here," Liam suggested. "They're all dead."</p><p>"Yeah, no, buddy," Dean chuckled without much humor. He eased his duffle bag into the floor, dropping it the remaining feet, hearing a satisfying thud before he frowned at the rotting wood. Dean knelt and gripped a rung, giving it a tough yank, still not convinced, "You think those crappy old things will hold? I mean you just...float. I have to, you know, climb?"</p><p>Liam shook his head, "I don't know. All I know is there are bodies down here. I've seen them." </p><p>Dean sighed and stuck the gun under his arm, gripping the flashlight and watching his step as he eased himself into the small hole. He made sure the door to the room was open and tested his weight on the first rung. </p><p> </p><p>Sam looked over at the broken body that was a couple steps away, the blood spreading across the floor, his form surprisingly similar to what Braden looked like. Sam runs a hand over his face, "He got inside your head. He tortured you, and then he killed you. And since you died in the house, you're tied here. And he has this...this guilt over you, right? That's why you were forced to kill for him, that's why you're afraid of him," Sam looked between the two of them who nodded, Braden's form returning to normal.</p><p>"You have to admit it. That's the only way he can kill you," Amanda added quietly, rubbing her arm. </p><p>"Admit you didn't protect them? Admit that it was your fault they got hurt?" Sam asked and she nodded. He exhaled and shook his head before he carded a hand through his hair, taking a shaky breath. "Okay, okay, I need to find Dean."</p><p>That's when his heart stopped.</p><p>In fact, everything stopped.</p><p>His eyes widened and his gaze snapped up. Sam glanced at Amanda in shock and his gaze switched to Braden who was wearing the same expression.</p><p>"No," he whispered with a shake of his head, practically begging them to deny it. His legs starting to move forward. </p><p>"He'll come for him," Braden said quietly. </p><p>Sam shook his head, "He's been protecting me his entire life. He's a little <em>over</em> protective, if anything, he would never- there's nothing for Liam to go off of-" Sam stopped.</p><p>Dean had been keeping him safe since they were little, but Sam had gotten hurt plenty a times on hunts, it was the job. Dean always took it personally. Sam had been in danger when they had been kids, and Dean was never the only one to blame himself, but their father as well. In fact, whenever Sam got even scratched it was Dean's fault, that's how John had raised them. Unfair, yes, but it had become part of Dean's life, his job, something he would never stop doing until he died- and not even then. But with their profession it was a little hard for his older brother to cover him in bubble wrap which meant Liam wouldn't be able to tell the difference between Sam getting hurt alone on a hunt, and Dean putting him in harms way. It wasn't to say Dean never hurt him- hell, they had hurt each other with words more times then it got physical, which also happened on occasion. Every once in a while there would be a bad argument, and if things got heated, one of them threw a punch. It was their relationship. But each time Sam had gotten hurt, Dean took the fall for it, no matter what, even when it wasn't his fault. His guilt would outweigh Liam's anger 20/1.</p><p>No.</p><p>Nononono- Oh God.</p><p>Sam backed for the door, gripping his gun, unable to breathe, but he knew his legs would work and as his chest tightened, he turned for the door. </p><p>"Get him out," Amanda repeated harshly behind him, pointing.</p><p>Sam didn't waste another second. He spun and took off down the hall, sprinting across the foyer and up the main stairs. </p><p> </p><p>"Would you leave your brother for dead?"</p><p>Dean's eyesight sharpened. He paused on the ladder he had just begun to climb down and looked behind him, knitting his eyebrows. The flashlight shone through Liam's body that was flickering, the man's expression different, his eyes fierce. Dust thickened around the two of them like a cloud, and the darkness seemed to get closer, sending Dean's eyes flicking to either side as the walls seemed to reach for him.</p><p>"No. Never," the older Winchester responded said seriously, asking slowly. "Why?"</p><p>"But you've let him get hurt," Liam hissed, his form rippling. "During your jobs. He's gotten hurt."</p><p>Dean's grip tightened on the rung he was on. His mouth became dry and he clenched harder on the metal flashlight in his palm, "Yeah, it's- it's the job. I-" he blinks and mumbles, "I can't always stop it, why?"</p><p>Liam growled, his hands curling into fists, and his eyes raise to meet Dean's. Dean's teeth clenched hard as he swallowed,  a million thoughts run through his brain. Phone. Gun. Light. Three things. Two hands. </p><p>"DEAN!" </p><p>His head snapped up, eyes widening, shoulders relaxing ever so slightly. Footsteps pounded in a hall; he could hear them from here, the floor shaking from how fast Sam was running upstairs. It was upstairs. The voice was close, but not close enough. Dean's gaze then found the hole in the floor, just two or three feet above him, and then back at Liam who had also craned his neck at the yell of the younger brother. </p><p>"DEAN! Where are you man?"</p><p>"DEAN!"</p><p>The older Winchester made a break for it, getting up two rungs before Liam snarled and dove forward. In one fluid motion he slipped the flashlight into his mouth, grabbed his shotgun and fired, balancing against the rung, side slamming against the wood ladder he managed to balance on, buying himself about three seconds.</p><p>"SAM!" he shouted back.</p><p>Then he continued up the rungs, reaching as he grabbed the top and Dean hauled himself up, gripping the wood, the flashlight falling from his mouth. It clattered to the floor and rolled, falling down into the basement. He groaned, fingers grasping rotting wood in the dark room as he fought to kick away from the ladder. He could barely see, his eyes not adjusting to the complete absence of light fast enough.</p><p>A chill went down his back and he knew Liam was right behind him. Dean made a split decision as he army crawled forward, everything out of the hole except for his ankles. He twisted on the ground, kicking away before he plunged his hand into his pocket and dug out his phone. </p><p>"SAM!" He flicked the phone open and sent it skidding forward, just in time too; he felt something grasp his leg, curling around his ankle and Dean looked behind him in cursed. Liam was half visible from the hole in his ground, his hand gripping Dean's foot, eyes narrowed. </p><p>"DEAN!"</p><p>Dean kicked and felt himself pulled toward the hole and he cursed, looking towards the door and yelling, "SAMMY!" </p><p>The older hunter had nothing to hold onto as his ankle was pulled with an insane amount of force. The wood bar he tried to snag snapped and wood splintered into his hand. A hand gripped his hair and he lost his footing, tumbling backward. But Dean had pushed his phone forward, sending it sliding across the floor, and that was the only thing he was thinking of as he was yanked backward into darkness. That and knowing Sam had to have heard him as he thought 'screw it' and tackled Liam, stomach flipping as he fell off the ladder and into the dark basement. </p><p> </p><p>"DEAN!" Sam yelled, whipping around the corner, practically falling, his hand going through a section of the wall where they plaster was rotted away. He scrambled down the hallway Dean had been down and cursed, not finding anything. His heart was pounding and with every corner he begged to see Dean's pissed off face glaring at him, demanding he keep it down- use his inside voice- anything.</p><p>"DEAN! Where are you man?" He yelled, raising the gun as he made it to the end, finding another staircase that led into another room on the lower floor. Whipping his head around he jumped the last set of stairs and ran forward, flashlight zigzagging. He didn't care it was dark, he didn't care about the shadows, or the silence, or the emptiness that seemed to play tricks on him and convince him that there was someone behind him. Hell, he wanted there to be someone behind him so he could threaten to blast them unless they helped him find his older brother.</p><p>He skidded to a stop in a hallway and kicked down the nearest door, muttering a curse. Storming forward, he broke down the next one. Nothing. </p><p>"DEAN!" he screamed, doing a full circle, hands going up to run through his hair in panic, voice breaking towards the end. </p><p>"SAM!"</p><p>The young Winchester's head snapped to the side and he sprinted, pushing the wall to help his momentum, turning a sharp corner and digging out his phone. He shoved it to his ear, hitting the emergency contact, muttering, "Come on, dude, pick up. Pick up, Dean."</p><p>Sam stopped as he heard the ring. He did a turn, closing his eyes, and when he opened them, his feet wasted no time in carrying him forward in the direction of the sound.</p><p>"SAM!" His brother's yell was more panicked now, desperate. </p><p>"DEAN!" He had nothing else to yell, he just screamed the older Winchester's name because of the tone he heard. He wouldn't say scared, because Dean hated whenever someone called him scared, he said he wasn't a wimp or a wuss and that only babies were scared. He usually added: like you Sam. Sam would take any insult right now. Because whatever the scared synonym was for Dean, that was what he heard.</p><p>"SAMMY!"</p><p>Sam redialed the number once it cut off, the electronic guitar echoing through the halls in the house, getting louder and Sam skidded to a stop as he reached a room that had been opened. There was a fridge towards the back wall, scrape marks fresh on the floor, dust disturbed. </p><p>Dean's phone lay on the ground, ringing, cutting off after a second and Sam's eyes fell on it in both relief and panic, storming for the open hole in the floor. He dove for it, nearly sliding onto his knees, and it slammed shut, barely missing his fingers. </p><p>Sam pounded his fist on it, flipping the latch and yanking hard but it wouldn't budge. He sank back onto his haunches, slipping Dean's phone into his pocket before he dug in his duffle and took out one of the iron pokers, trying to pry the wood from the floor. It snapped in his hand, sending Sam onto all fours, breathing hard. He grabbed his salt gun and got a grip on the middle, jamming the end into the center by one of the bigger cracks, bringing his entire weight down on it, so hard that the gun rebounded and fell out of his hands. </p><p>Frustrated, Sam punched the wood so hard it bloodied his knuckles and let out a curse, fumbling for his flashlight, trying to see through the cracks in the old wood that looked like a toddler could step on it and it would cave. Nothing. He knew it wasn't locked. It was Liam. And Liam had his brother.</p><p>Liam was a dead man walking. </p><p>Because Dean would make that joke. </p><p>And Dean wasn’t next to him. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Also thank you to everyone who has commentedddd &lt;3<br/>I say that BEFORE i ask how it was lol thats me. OK ALSO HAHAHA SO THEY ALWAYS SCREAM EACH OTHERS NAMES RIGHT and for some reason its 11 pm and i find that hilarious so yes i added like 1 too many name screams because it makes me laugh and if youve ever seen that guy do that vine where he goes DEAN SAM DEAN SAM then youll get it.<br/>Im not a bad writer i promise :''''''''((( well actually who knows.<br/>Im out of whack. Because 15.20 is a thing. Who knew?<br/>ANYWAY how was itttt hoped you liked it. Thats it the end im kidding, one more part of this, and thennn maybe one more after that and then that will be a wrap :))))<br/>Hope you enjoyed, please drop a rant, comment, fun fact, idc yall are great. Drink coffee, stay healthy, dont die with school, and dont think about thursday night!!! Im super helpful.<br/>I just reread that comment and WOW im tired but you know what imma leave it because who doesnt love organized chaos minus the organization? New chapter ASAP i swear im writing in my free time XD</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Haunted House Part 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Uhhhh reference to season 2 spoiler I think that’s it tho</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hi lovely readers &lt;3 &lt;3<br/>Im currently ignoring and not accepting the finale so were just not gonna talk about it also because spoilers and people havent seen it. But for those who have, i feel ya. Im not thriving.<br/>AND TO ALL OF YOU this show has changed my life i love it so so much and its been a crazy awesome 15 years but the spn family never ends (come on our fandom literally owns a STAR) so AKF and hang in there.<br/>As for this chapter, i hope you like it, sorry it took a while, i watched the finale and then went into a state of depression which i will never be out of, but i did manage to write so yay me.<br/>Also i thought i could finish this in 3 parts but nopeeeee so yall are getting a part 4.<br/>Enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Tackling a ghost was not Dean Winchester's finest moment, but he did it anyway. He should not have been surprised when Liam dissolved beneath him but the older hunter still yelped as he landed hard on the ground, trying to roll without much luck. He groaned, head slamming into the floor, ribs and knees screaming in pain as he hit the cold stone. Weakly, he pushed himself onto all fours in the dark, hand clutching his head, blinking to try and stop the pounding behind his ears. If his eyesight was blurry, he didn't know; he couldn't see much, all he knew was that he had to get to his feet. If John had taught him anything, it was how to always get back on your feet faster than the enemy was expecting. </p><p>He heard footsteps above him and he glanced up at the gap in the floor in hope as his younger brother dove forward, Dean barely getting a glimpse of Sam's shaggy bangs before the wood plaque fell shut. The older Winchester's eyes widened as they tried to adjust to the dark and he immediately scrambled for the flashlight and gun he had dropped.</p><p>Dean dove for the two of them and leveled the shot gun on his forearm, holding the flashlight beneath it as he spun, slowly walking backwards towards the duffel bag, looking for any signs of Liam. He craned his neck towards the ladder and yelled roughly, "Sammy?"</p><p>The room was suddenly quiet...eerily quiet. Dean could only hear his breathing as he turned, searching for movement in the thick blanket of darkness. Everything above him, where he knew Sam was trying to get the trap door open and probably screaming his name, was quiet, and he figured that had to be Liam's doing too. </p><p>"Alright buddy," Dean called slowly, continuing to back up until his foot hit the duffel bag. He internalized his victory and began to kneel, reaching behind him for the zipper, balancing the gun on one arm. "You've got me down here, how about you do your whole monologue now to get it over with?" </p><p>"I've had ghost hunters in here before. You should have listened to Sam. He seems smart, I'm sure he told you," Liam giggled from a corner of the room. "Not <em>everyone</em> who comes in here dies, only certain people." With a flicker, the man suddenly appeared in front of the older Winchester with a grin, making Dean jump. </p><p>He aimed and took a shot in less than half a second but Liam was gone, retreating back into the overwhelming darkness. The innocence Dean had detected was long gone- all of it part of one massive deception, and he cursed himself for believing it. The hunter dug through his bag more aggressively, rummaging around before his hand hit the salt and closed over it. </p><p>"So if there's no monologue, can I just torch you and go home?" Dean asked casually.</p><p>"I spread my bones. Burned some of them even," Liam taunted, his voice echoing. </p><p>"So then you're tied to an object," Dean snorted to the darkened basement that was in front of him as he twisted his wrist, pulling the salt free from the bag. There was silence from the ghost, and Dean realized he probably had no idea what he was tied to. That could either be really good or really problematic, Dean didn't have time to decide that at the moment. He pours confidence into his voice, "Don't worry, I'll find it and kill you all the same."</p><p>"Don't you want to know <em>who</em> I kill?" Liam asked, sounding closer this time, but less sure of himself than a second ago. </p><p>Dean's grip tightened on the gun before he flinched, feeling a chill down his back. He raised the flashlight, scanning it cautiously from left to right, steadying his breathing. "To answer that subject changing question, no, not really."</p><p>There's suddenly a noise behind him and he suddenly straightens, the man's eyes burning into the nape of his neck. It's an awful feeling to know someone is behind you and with a snarl Dean spins, firing once and getting a hiss in return before something slams into his chest. He does what he can to maintain his hold on the salt, gun and flashlight as he's thrown, his back slamming into one of the chairs. Because of his momentum it tips over with him, landing on top of him as the older hunter hits the ground. Dean scrambles to his feet, ripping thick spiderwebs off his arms, coughing from the dust he had stirred up. He grabs his gun and salt and stumbles until his back is against the wall, grabbing the flashlight from the ground and smacking it once as it starts to flicker. His eyes are still trying to adjust in the darkness; the furniture was just darker blobs than the wooden floor beneath him and emptiness around him.  </p><p>Liam flickers in the middle of the room and smiles at him, Dean holding his shot to conserve bullets, but his finger tightens on the trigger. Instead of firing he narrows his eyes and starts walking in a slow circle, turned to the side so only one of his hips is facing Liam. His other hand is clutching something at his side, and he keeps his gaze steady and distracting. There's a glare plastered to his face and he swears, "You come one step closer and I'll blast you."</p><p>"Eventually you'll be out of bullets," Liam shrugs, shoving his hands into his pockets as he turns with Dean. "Let's play a game. You decide if I get to kill you. And all you have to do," he says slowly, looking up at Dean with the same innocence that the hunter had fallen for, "is tell the truth."</p><p>"That sounds great. What's the catch?" Dean asked, continuing to walk in a loop, keeping his flashlight up, shining in Liam's face. </p><p>"There is no catch," Liam insisted, turning with him casually. His voice was simple and steady, but Dean figured he had a lot of practice lying. It was either that or the pit at the bottom of his stomach was there for a reason because the ghost was telling the twisted truth.  </p><p>"Yeah, right. Well," he winced before his lips curled into a smirk. "<em>I've</em> got a catch. Thanks for standing so still, you did great," he said to the confused ghost, making a big show of finishing off the circle of salt, making a tiny pile at the end of it and patting it with his foot. He tiled the flashlight down with a frown as he let the beam travel in a massive 360. Then he whistled, "That is a bummer, too."</p><p>Liam looks in dismay at the wide loop Dean had just made, salt trailing in his wake. He looks up in disbelief and anger, snarling, "You-"</p><p>The older hunter winks and agrees, "Me. Hang tight, Casper." Dean ignores the curses that follow him as he hurries over to the ladder, climbing up a couple rungs, before shoving his palms against the top of the wood with a grunt. </p><p>"SAMMY!"</p><p>Nothing. Dean curses, gritting his teeth and clenching his jaw, squinting from the dust that was falling from the rotted wood. He concentrates and grips the side of the board that was firmly shut, flattening his hands against the top before pressing as hard as he possibly can. Muscles strain and sweat beads on his forehead as he tries to get it to open. After a couple more seconds, it suddenly gives, and there's a small crack, a sliver of light shining through. </p><p>"-ean! Dean?" His brother is kneeling beside the hole, he can see his hands gripping the edges, pulling upward, the flashlight against his thigh. </p><p>Dean breaks into a smile and happily shouts, "Sam!"</p><p>His brother lets out an equally overjoyed laugh and calls, "Hey! Thank God- okay, almost there, keep going. It's almost-"</p><p>The small victory is disrupted by the sound of splintering boards in the back of the basement and Dean looks over his shoulder in dismay as the floor shakes a slight bit. The light streaming in falls on Liam who's glare had just tripled with anger. Dean's eyes move to the floor, his face falling as the ground starts cracking around the man, the wood around the salt line trembling, the white particles already getting thinned. The older Winchester reaches, straining to keep the board lifted.</p><p>Realizing he didn't have much time and hearing a massive crack as a board splinted, he speaks quickly, "Crap- Casper's out. Sam, you've got to find the object- it's not his bones, he's tied to something."</p><p>"Object, okay," Sam groans with effort, shifting his grip on the board, trying to keep it from closing on his brother, "Okay, but Dean-"</p><p>"The rest of the bodies are down here," Dean said, grunting with effort as he pushed up on the board. He didn't think Liam was lying about that, but they could deal with that after-</p><p>"Dean, <em>shut up and listen to me</em>," Sam barks and Dean's brow creases at his brother's sharp tone, head snapping up. The intensity doesn't waver as Sam pleads, "I don't care what he tells you, don't say it was your fault or he'll kill you. Don't, okay? I don't have time to explain- it's not true, you've always protected me-"</p><p>"Sam what are you talking about?" Dean demands in confusion, having step down a rung because the wood was making his wrists feel like they were going to snap backwards, splinters digging into his fingers.</p><p>"Just don't- you've never let me get hurt, Dean, you have to know that-" Sam lets out a cry of pain as he's suddenly thrown backward, tumbling across the floor and landing with a sickening thud, Dean letting out a choked sound. Without the two of them pulling and pushing in sync, the older hunter loses his grip on the board as it slams shut, and he jumps off the ladder to the bottom of the basement, landing roughly, sharp pain in his shins. "SAM!" he yells, reaching for the nearest rung before he realizes that the person who had just tossed his brother like a rag doll was behind him.</p><p>"Well that was ironic," someone snickers. Dean spins and sees Liam lowering his hand. He mimics Sam, "The 'you've never let me get hurt', and then just," he makes a flicking motion with his hand and smiles, crossing his arms.</p><p>The older hunter snarls, his eyes flashing as he promises, "You're gonna pay for that. No one hurts my brother you sick son of a-"</p><p>Liam cuts him off with a sarcastic nod, "Except you...right?" </p><p>Dean frowns and swears, "Excuse me?" The man shrugs, leaning against the wall nonchalantly. Dean shakes his head, so angry he actually takes a step forward with no weapon, his voice rising, "No. What did you just say to me?" he demands. </p><p>"I said," Liam repeats dangerously, widening his eyes in a daring fashion that makes Dean falter. "<em>Except you."</em></p><p> </p><p>The minute Sam got launched across the room he scrambles to his feet, but he gets up slower than he expects due to the massive pain in his ribs. Holding his side, he grasps for his flashlight and gun before sprinting out the door. He knows if he just tries to pry the wood panel open again it would be no use and just waste time. Running wasn't as easy as he'd hoped; when prodding his ribs, he hissed in pain, sure at least two were bruised, if not broken.</p><p>"Amanda! Braden!" he shouts as he cuts a corner so fast he nearly runs into the other wall, crossing the foyer in long strides in a matter of seconds, weaving around the next hall and skidding to a stop by the spiral stair case, grasping the metal rail, whipping the flashlight around the room that at this moment in time, he didn't care was nearly pitch black. "Both of you, I need you, right now," he gasps, breathing hard as he spins in the center of the room, searching the shadows for the flicker of the two ghosts he had befriended. </p><p>Sam curses and raises his voice, "I know you're scared of him, but you need to help me. I can stop him," he pleads. Sam's chest is tight and his mind is racing to catch up with his body. His legs had carried him faster than the rest of his thoughts could and now they were bouncing along behind him, all scrambled and frenzied. Sam grits his teeth and thinks about Dean in the same room of Liam before he finally just brings his hands up to his head and yells, "He has my brother!"</p><p>Sam's voice broke at the end and he continues with a low mumble so it doesn't crack, whispering, "Please. You know what he'll do to him." He pauses, lip bit with what he hoped wasn't false hope, doing a circle in the empty room, running a hand nervously through his hair. </p><p>There's a chill and Sam's never been so happy to shudder in his entire life, not bothered by the white cloud that forms in front of him after he sighs in relief. He turns to find  shimmering forms of the man and woman standing in front of him with compassionate attempts at smiles. The young hunter glances at the two of them in appreciation and mutters, "Thank God."</p><p>"We can help," Amanda insists with wide eyes and Sam nods. </p><p>"I know, I know," he assures her. "Liam is tied to an object, something he had when he died, something that was or still is very important to him. Do you know what that would be? Did he have a watch, or- or, uh, a I don't know, maybe a ring, or a flask- it's in this house somewhere and I need to find it and burn it."</p><p>"Hat?" Braden offers, brows knit in question. </p><p>Sam's eyes widen as he steps forward with a nod, "Yes! Yes, a hat would work, did he have a hat?"</p><p>"Watch," Braden says, his form flickering as he raises his arm, pointing to the stairs. Sam jumps, nearly firing as the vision of Johnathan runs through him in a panic and Liam's death echo happens again. The young Winchester looks away with a grimace the minute the man trips on the stairs, and opens them after the snaps of bones and gurgled attempts to scream in pain. Liam hits the ground, his shoulder dislocating, but Sam's gaze is on the the baseball cap that had tumbled from the man's clenched fist. It falls from out of his broken hand and slides into the dusty corner. </p><p>Sam lunges forward, ignoring the playing vision of the man dying behind him and he follows the hat to the corner where it rolled to a stop. When the vision disappears though, the blue baseball cap is gone. Replaced by cobwebs in an empty corner, the piles of dust taunting him as they reveal nothing. Sam stands in anger and points, asking, "Have you seen it? That hat? Where did it go?"</p><p>"Basement," Amanda says quietly. </p><p>Sam's face falls, heart slowing with a nauseating thump. He swallows and nods, "Where Dean is-" Pressing a hand to the temple that wasn't bleeding, he tries to think out loud, "I can call- no, I have his phone-" Sam curses himself for not slipping it to his brother while he had the chance, for not saying more, for not getting him out of there, or thinking this through better. Sam was always the analytical one, but it seemed if it came down to Dean, his logic went out the window and he was just so hell bent on saving his brother.</p><p>Sam yells a curse, knocking over one of the lamps in a rage. The metal pole clatters to the ground and it echoes throughout the entire house it seems, the glass bulb and cover shattering as it hits the ground. The young hunter he tugs at his hair, kicking aside the glass that is scattered at his feet. He then turns and asks with wide eyes, "Can you get me in there? Is there another way into the basement?"</p><p>Amanda and Braden exchange looks and Sam's expression brightens, "There is, isn't there? Whatever it is, I'll do it."</p><p>"But- Liam- might-" Braden whispers quietly, trailing off in embarrassment, a flush of pink creating quite the contrast on his pale cheeks.  </p><p>"I know you're scared of him, but if you get me down there, and tell me where that hat is, I can stop him. I can kill him and set your souls to rest, I promise you that. He won't ever hurt you again," he insists desperately, begging the man and woman to believe him. "And there are more people down there, aren't there? Won't they help?"</p><p>"They're scared," Amanda says quietly with a shake of her head. "They would have killed you," her gaze flicks to Sam's head and he nods. </p><p>The Winchester's knees buckle only slightly and he looks between the two of them, "They won't help, will they? They'll do the opposite?" They two people flickering in front of him don't answer, but he already knows. He nods and looks down at the ground.</p><p>"This wasn't your fault," he assures them both in as even a voice as he can manage. "I'm sorry you were dragged into this, but you don't deserve it. He has no power over you. And I can kill him. But I won't lie to you, I'm not just going down there for you," he says quietly, not wanting to manipulate them like Liam had. He was going down there for two reasons, one severely outweighing the other. Sam swallowed painfully, his chest tight as he looked up, chewing on his cheek and shaking his head. "That's my brother," he said weakly. "He has my brother."</p><p> </p><p>"What the hell are you talking about?" Dean demands, leveling the gun. </p><p>Liam actually laughs and he snaps his fingers, Dean's salt gun flying into the man's hands. He barely has time to feel his grip leave the trigger before it's snapped on Liam's knee, the firearm splintering in front of him. Dean's mouth opens but no sound comes out as the man tosses his broken gun aside like it's garbage, wiping his hands like he had just caught an illness from the touch of the barrel. Dean wastes no time surging for his bag which promptly goes up in flames the minute he reaches for the zipper. He scrambles back, the tips of his fingers burned and watches the flames immediately extinguish, smoke rising from the smoldering fabric.</p><p>Dean turns in shock and Liam appears right next to him, inches away from his face. Dean stands his ground, planting his feet and locking his knees. "So, you want to play?" the man asks, wiggling his eyebrows. </p><p>"I don't have a choice, do I?" Dean snarls, Liam reaching his arm up to the side and tapping one of the light bulbs that Dean hadn't noticed were hanging from the ceiling until it dimly flickered to life, providing a slight bit of light to the darkened room. Who knows how big this basement was; the older Winchester didn't see an end. It extended all around him, and he had no weapon except the poker in his jacket pocket that he didn't want to reveal until he needed it. Better to stall while Sam was out finding whatever cursed object Liam was tied to. </p><p>Liam shook his head with an unsettling smile, not blinking, which really left Dean on edge, "No. But I will tell you who I kill. People like my brother," he hissed, clapping the hunter on the shoulder. The older Winchester jerked out from under his touch in disgust. Liam smirked as he continued, dragging his foot along the dust covered floor like a little kid who is bored while their parents are having a conversation. He looks up and makes eye contact with Dean, his voice soft, his eyes....dead. "The ones who have let their family down, their friends down, the people closest to them. The ones that have let people they love die, allow them to get hurt." He blinks once. His voice is even and quiet. "People like you."</p><p>Dean turned on the man and gave him a wince practically dripping with sarcasm as he informs him, "I hate to break it to you, but I'm not your brother."</p><p>"No," Liam agrees, nodding vigorously, "I know that. You're worse," the man grinned, enjoying the tense he got from the older hunter in response. The man's voice was almost sing-songy, and Dean hated it. And his eyes. He hated his eyes, so blank, just an endless void of nothing that seemed to know exactly how to look at Dean.</p><p>"My brother failed once," Liam said simply, cocking his head just enough for it to be insulting. "How many times have you failed Sam?" he wondered innocently. "I know all about you Winchesters. Sam's been dead before. How did that happen?"</p><p>"Stop talking," Dean snarled, his eyes flashing with warning. </p><p>"Were you there?" Liam asked casually. </p><p>"Yes," Dean responded without thinking. </p><p>"You watched it happen?" the man followed up with a knowing smirk. </p><p>"Yes," Dean said, quiet this time, not even sure why he was answering. Liam had to be messing with him.</p><p>The man pursed his lips, "You let him die, didn't you?"</p><p>"He was too far away- I couldn't stop it," Dean whispered brokenly before he screwed his eyes up and shook his head, shouting roughly, "No! You're trying to get in my head and I won't let you. My entire life it's been my job to protect my brother-" he stopped, remembering Sam's words. <em>Don't say it was your fault or he'll kill you. Don't, okay? I don't have time to explain- it's not true, you've always protected me-</em></p><p>The older hunter turned to face Liam who was distractedly pushing the flickering bulb side to side with the pad of his finger. The light swung in a dizzying fashion and Dean forced himself not to look as Liam shifted in and out of the shadows due to the swinging bulb. Dean narrowed his eyes and asked, "You can't kill me unless I admit it."</p><p>"Guilty," Liam grinned, still pushing the lightbulb. </p><p>Dean snatched it before it could make its way back, hand closing around the glass, stopping it mid swing. "I won't," he hissed through gritted teeth. </p><p>Liam rubs his hands and grins, "A challenge-" then he snorts and sighs with pity. "I'm just kidding, that's what they all said."</p><p>"Who's th-" Dean asks, his brow knitting before Liam snaps again and one of the lights flickers on about ten yards away. Oh, God- so that was the smell. Dean's had his fair share of bones to recognize them and his jaw clenches. It was everyone who had died by Liam's hand, the same person who was gone when he turned back to face him. Instead he was now gripping Dean's collar and shoving him against the wall with a light chuckle.</p><p>Dean's back flared with pain as he hit the wood, his head cracking backward so hard he saw spots. The grip on his collar was so tight Dean could barely breathe</p><p>"Dean, I don't even need to force you to say it, you'll do it on your own," Liam seethed, the older hunter trying to break from his grip. "Because you know I'm right," the man snickered happily, "you know there's that guilt <em>eating away at you</em> every single day because you told me yourself, Sam is your responsibility, you keep him safe, it's your <em>job</em>. How does it feel to know that he's probably got a few busted ribs right now?"</p><p>Dean finally flicked his gaze over to stare his enemy in the eyes and he spat with venom, "Go to hell." </p><p>"Did he scream? He's had a good scream when i threw him across the room," Liam admitted and Dean nearly choked with anger, thrashing to no avail.</p><p>"You're a sick puppy," he laughed without humor. "And if you say one more thing about my brother I will-"</p><p>The man's eyes widened with fake sympathy and he whispered, "You'll what? I know this is a touchy subject, but I just have to know. Did you hold him when he died? Feel his dead weight in your arms? Wish you had gotten there just a second earlier so that maybe his eyes would open-"</p><p>"Shut up," Dean swore, being effortlessly pinned against the wall. He could feel the poker in his jacket, trying to keep his gaze steady so that Liam didn't suspect he had anything literally up his sleeve although his hands itched to grab it. </p><p>"Sam's always looked to you, hasn't he? I would know," Liam assures him with a laced fury to his voice. "I was a little brother too. You're his idol, his protector, his role model, his rock. He needs you. You block most of the punches, but not all."</p><p>"I'm nowhere close to perfect if that's what you're getting at," Dean groans, trying to arch his back against the wall. "I have no problem admitting that."</p><p>"No, Dean, my question is have you thrown a punch?" Liam asked. </p><p>Dean's about to scoff and disagree, but then he stops. His brother and he had gotten into many fights, and yeah, some of them were physical. It had been that way since they were kids. </p><p>"There it is," Liam grins happily, watching Dean's eyes carefully, seeing his expression falter. "And you can blame it on the job, but how many times has Sam gotten hurt on a hunt. Some <em>monster </em>like me throws him across the room because you're not fast enough? How many times have you done first aid on him, that should be a pretty big number. It sounds like you don't know how to do your job."</p><p>Something snapped inside of him. His father had told him, from the minute Dean was able to respond with 'yes sir' that Sam was his responsibility. He had grabbed his baby brother and carried him out of the burning house before he was even 5 years old. His chest heated up and even Liam saw his eyes flash. With gritted teeth and in one fluid motion he lets go of the hand around his throat and he digs it into his coat, ripping out the poker and slicing an arc down the middle of Liam's body. The ghost dissolves and Dean's chest expands as he's dropped and his feet hit the floor, falling back against the wall, panting. He grips the poker hard, turning, waiting for his enemy to show himself again as he catches his breath and rubs his neck, tugging at his collar. </p><p>"How many times have you had to help him with a nightmare?" Liam asks once he becomes visible again, a couple feet away. Dean holds the poker out dangerously, but doesn't respond. Liam's eyes squint and he asks, "Did Sam even want to be a hunter, or did you drag him into all this?" The older man's face falls and his hands clench over the poker, knuckles turning white. Liam smiles, clapping loudly, "I gotta hand it to you, Dean, your denial is strong, but that's only gotta mean your guilt is too. You want to pretend you're nothing like my brother, or like the people I've killed. Dean-o, I hate to break it to you, but you fit the profile to the very last detail."</p><p>"You're not touching my brother," Dean gasped out, because he really didn't care what Liam did to him, as long as Sam stayed safe. And that feeling that was rippling through his body, that fear of watching his little brother get hurt was the dam that was holding back waves of guilt that could cripple him in a second. Dean held onto that feeling for dear life, even as the dam shuddered.  </p><p>"No, but if he's around you...then he's in danger. Hell, you bring danger to his doorstep and you've proven time and time again you can't stop the bad from happening to him," Liam laughed out loud. "Don't act like your his protector, Dean. And," he adds, making hesitant eye contact with Dean as he crosses another line, taunting, "You don't keep him alive for him, you keep him alive for you."</p><p>Dean lunges forward without thinking, legs moving on their own accord as he lets out a yell from the back of his throat and swipes with the poker. He never makes it. Liam snaps and Dean suddenly cries out in pain at the two cracks he hears, nearly dropping the poker as he feels his shoulder dislocate, his grip loosening as his finger breaks. He curses, gripping it with his other hand and looking up, seeing the empty spot on front of him.</p><p>Liam frowns from behind him and eyes his shoulder that's clearly uneven now, "Oh, yikes. I'm sorry. Maybe I can fix the balance issue-" he makes a finger gun and aims at Dean's chest once he whips around, giggling, "<em>Bang."</em></p><p>Dean's knees buckle as he feels his ribs crack. He gasps, staggering sideways to get a palm against the wall before he finally just moves against it, shoving his head backward as he stays upright, fire in his eyes. "I'm...gonna...salt the living crap out of you," Dean makes out, the taste of blood in his mouth.</p><p>Liam seems impressed and he nods as Dean takes a step towards him, "Woah, tougher than I thought. But you'd take any amount of pain over coming to terms with the fact that you're the reason for your brother's pain. Or maybe I'm just not trying hard enough?"</p><p>He looks down at Dean's ankle and narrows his eyes. Dean's mouth opens in a scream as he drops to the floor, reaching to clutch it, the fall jarring every single broken rib. Dean coughs up blood and grabs his shoe, trying to stop it from turning. The tendon feels like it's on fire, the bone practically shattering in slow motion under his fingers. Dean does the only thing he can do, he hurtles the poker through Liam's form like a spear. The ghost dissolves with a curse and Dean gasps in relief as the pressure that was starting to snap his foot releases. Exhaling shakily, he flexes his ankle and he pulls himself to his feet, good arm clutching his broken ribs, wiping blood from his mouth. </p><p>Dean's hands are shaking, he can feel them trembling against the wood he used to push himself upright. But it's not from the pain. It's something entirely different. And it scares him as he clasps the poker with his good hand, not the one which had the finger that was slightly crooked until Dean snapped it back, the skin turning black and blue. He cradled it to his crippled chest and pushed himself with a groan into a sitting position, the darkness creeping forward around him. </p><p>"Hurry up, Sammy," he growled quietly, readying the poker.</p><p> </p><p>"Down there?" Sam asked firmly, looking at Amanda and Braden who nodded, standing on either side of him in the kitchen they had taken him to on the other side of the house. Sam shoved open the door to the dumbwaiter and frowned at the small space, before the cloud of dust hit him and the smell, oh God. Sam put a hand to his nose before he steeled himself. He pulled the rope to lower the box down a slight bit, wincing at the massive groaning and creaking from that simple movement. He then examined the shaft with his flashlight, the sides of the walls covered in cobwebs, a massive spider shrinking back on it's web when Sam jostled the wooden box.</p><p>Making up his mind, he reached inside, knowing there was no way he would fit with the top board on so he punched that off, very, very concerned at how easily it snapped. He grabbed the splintered pieces and dumped them on the floor, wiping his hands on his jeans. </p><p>With a curse he climbed onto the counter and put his feet in the small opening, testing his weight, breathing a sigh of relief when it held. Then he shoved the duffel in beside him before he curled himself around the rope that ran through the center of the box. Sam lowered himself by pulling the rope up until his head stuck out from the top he had taken off and he could see only a foot of the kitchen where Amanda and Braden were watching him carefully. </p><p>"Okay, meet me down there?" Sam asked with a hopeful glance. The ghosts simply flickered and dissapeared, leaving Sam alone and he bit his cheek, muttering, "Thanks." Something dropped onto his head, scuttling into his hair and Sam squeezed his eyes shut, clamping his mouth closed, batting it off and down the shaft, shivers running down his spine. He didn't want to know what it was. The shaft was claustrophobic enough, the box he was in practically scraping the sides of the walls. </p><p>The rope he was slowly pulling was frayed and Sam begged it to not snap as he lowered himself, trying to go as slow as possible as to not alert the entire downstairs he was coming. He half expected to show up face to face with a bunch of ghosts, but they had walked pretty far from where Dean had been taken, so hopefully this was some closed off section of the basement that no one touched anymore and he could sneak in unnoticed.  </p><p>He descended slowly, hands in a steady rhythm, ignoring the thin air and the horrible smell, focusing on the rope that he was easing up as the box trembling beneath him, threatening to send him through the floor at any moment. Just as the walls started to get tighter and close around him, the box scraping the sides making Sam fear he'd just stuck, they widened, revealing a massive room. He pulled the dumbwaiter the rest of the way, met with emptiness and darkness, but it was still comforting when the box hit solid ground. </p><p>Sam wasted no time getting out and shouldering his duffel, dust rising around him as Sam took in his surroundings with his flashlight and salt gun. Exhaling, the young Winchester waved his beam across the walls littered with peeling paint and broken tables before he leveled his gun, taking a step forward. Suddenly there was a flicker and Sam jumped as Amanda and Braden shimmered into view next to him. He cursed and hissed, "A warning would be nice."</p><p>Braden cocked his head and spoke with hurt in his eyes, "Sorry."</p><p>"It's-" Sam immediately felt bad about his tone of voice and he quickly apologized, "It's fine. Where's the hat?"</p><p>Amanda points to a back room and Sam nods and follows quietly, wincing as the floor boards creak beneath him. He gets to the door and checking his surroundings, Sam pushes it open, his flashlight revealing the air filled with an unhealthy amount of dust. He pokes his head in and scans the room with his flashlight, eyes falling on a blue baseball cap that's laying on the table. </p><p>Sam closes the door behind him and crosses the room after making sure it was clear, just being cautious. He picks up the hat and turns it over, examining the dirty object. There's a name written on the inside on the tag and Sam uses the pad of his thumb to wipe away the grime, making out what looked like a J, H, N, A, T, AN-</p><p>
  <strong>JOHNATHAN </strong>
</p><p>"Sam," Amanda warns.</p><p>"It was his brother's hat," Sam whispers, turning with it in his fist to show Amanda and Brendan, but someone else met his eyes.</p><p>He flinches and scrambles back, leveling the shot gun but the girl in front of him simply cocks her head, her eyes knit in confusion. Amanda and Braden are looking at her in pity, and Sam hesitates. She was in a jean jacket, a pink sweater, and black leggings, no more than 11 years old. Her jacket was covered with dust and blood, the same injury on the side of her head, her hair in a messy braid caked in dirt. Her eyes seemed to be permanently puffy from crying, the red tint standing out against her pale face. Sam got sick to his stomach even trying to think of the situation Liam twisted that led to this poor girl becoming one of his victims. There was a steady fear behind her gaze and Sam hesitantly lowered the barrel but didn't take his finger off the trigger. </p><p>"Who are you?" he asked as gently as possible, trying to get the girl to look at him and not the gun he had just leveled at her chest.</p><p>"Ashley Day," she said quietly, eyes narrowing, seeming genuinely curious. "Who are you?"</p><p>"Sam," he said in response. Why lie?</p><p>"Sammy," she perked up, using his nickname, chin raising, breaking into a smile as her form flickered. </p><p>Sam faltered and he stuttered, "W-what?"</p><p>"He calls you Sammy," she explains, looking at him like he was from another planet. </p><p><em>He calls you Sammy. </em>The young Winchester swallowed as he realized what that entailed, terror creeping up his spine and he took another look at the girl, his gaze falling on something she had wrapped around her wrist. That's when his heart truly stops, his body freezing up. The pounding in his head gets louder and his ears start to ring, eyes losing their ability to see in the dark for a second as white spots cloud his vision, but he can somehow still see the object she's clutching. Of course he could.</p><p>"Can I-" he says, clearing his throat after it breaks. "I- Where did you get that?" Sam asks as calm as he possibly can, his voice trembling as he points with a shaking hand. </p><p>Ashley frowns and holds up an amulet that she looped around her wrist with a smile. She touches it delicately before announcing, "Liam gave it to me."</p><p>At that, Sam nearly choked. There was something so wrong seeing the amulet and not seeing his brother, instead watching it be dangled from some stranger's hand. <em>Liam gave it to me</em>- Liam had Dean- that was scary enough, but Sam saw the fear wasn't directed to Liam like he thought it would be, no... she was scared of Sam. </p><p>Amanda had said they were scared. Which they were. At one point. But over the years they had forgotten their identity. They had withered away under his rules, under his influence, because after all, he was the one who broke them, tortured them into convicting themselves- hell, they practically handed over the reins to him. The young girl in front of him was just a victim of a very twisted case of Stockholm Syndrome, something Sam couldn't break in the small amount of time he had.</p><p>Sam licked his lips, taking a small step forward and asking, "Can I see it?" Ashley's frown deepened and shook her head, curling her fist over the amulet and Sam felt his entire body tremble as it went into her palm. He forced a smile and held out his hand, "Please? It's really important to me."</p><p>"You're alive," Ashley shook her head, screwing up her nose. “Liam doesn’t like people who are alive-“</p><p>"No," Sam immediately said, heart pounding for some way to- his eyes widened and he turned his head, pointing to the cut on his temple. "See? I was killed too. I just want to see the necklace," he urged quietly.</p><p>She craned her neck to see the cut that had sent dried blood dripping down Sam's face and he hoped it was gruesome enough to be believable. He could see her debating, wheels turning in the young girl's head. Sam could feel his heart thumping in his chest, eyes boring into his brother's necklace, itching to just reach out and grab it. But Ashley finally did extend her arm, dropping it into Sam's palm who visibly exhaled, shoulders relaxing. He balled it in his fist and hoped she didn't notice the fact that he wasn't giving it back to her at the moment.</p><p>Instead he asked, "Do you know where Liam is? I need to talk to him. Now."</p><p>The amount of anger that washes over Ashley's face nearly makes Sam move backward and his finger tightens over the trigger when she growls, "You want to hurt Liam?"</p><p>"No, I want to talk to him," Sam lies quickly, trying to fake a smile before he realized she had shoved her way through his lies and the truth had just dawned on her. Sam guessed he couldn't hide his blatant anger for the man that was no doubt torturing his brother, and he didn't really have any qualms about that. </p><p>"You're lying," she hisses in shattered disbelief. "Liam saved me, he saved you," Ashley insisted, her voice raising. "We're bad people, don't you see-" The young girl raises her hands and Sam spends no time waiting, he just raises the gun and takes a shot. It echos through the room and probably throughout the basement, Ashley dissapearing in thin air with a scream that was cut short. </p><p>Well so much for the element of surprise. Amanda and Braden look to him, not in anger or shock, but in understanding and the woman nods, whispering to the spot the girl had stood before Sam blasted her, "Afraid."</p><p>"Yeah, that's gonna be a problem." Sam exhales shakily, slipping the amulet on over his neck, not risking it in his pocket, feeling comfort by the unknown weight against his chest. Then he turns to Amanda and points to his head, "You knew that would help."</p><p>"I hoped," she admitted. "I'm tired of...this."</p><p>Sam shoots her the quickest look of gratitude that he can and she nods in return. Then he scrambles to clench the baseball cap in his fist, "But I have the hat." He even dares to smile at the victory. Sam kneels, keeping his poker at the ready in case he needed to quickly slash an unwanted guest away before he pulls out the can of gasoline, dousing the entirety of the hat until it's dripping wet. Then Sam rummages through the bag for the salt and a lighter, pulling both out and scattering salt messily all over the fabric, spilling a lot on the floor. When he's satisfied, he stands straight, flashlight beam aimed at the door, resting on one of the tables in this room. </p><p>There's a sudden chill as Sam is in the process of flicking the lighter. He immediately makes eye contact with both Amanda and Braden and hisses, "Leave." They're gone before he can even finish the word.</p><p>Sam focuses on getting a flame on the tip of the lighter when he hears, "Wow. Record time. It's nice to finally meet you...Dean said you were a good hunter."</p><p>The young Winchester whirled and saw a man leaning against the wall casually, a slight smirk plastered on his lips. It was the same man who had fallen down the steps, the one in the death echo that Sam had seen at least seven times. Liam. The hunter readied the lighter and snarls, "Where's my brother?"</p><p>"Right to business," Liam notices with a nod. "I respect that."</p><p>"Where<em> the hell</em> is he?" Sam repeats with a snarl, and he swear his vision drips red</p><p>"He's alive, if that's what you're wondering," Liam teased, cracking his knuckles. He bites his lip and points at Sam, "He really does hate himself, you know that?"</p><p>Sam cursed, eyes flashing. The physical wounds he could handle with first aid, or ER if need be. The mental scarring he couldn't fix, neither ever could. "What did you do to him?"</p><p>"Sam, Sam," Liam chided, walking towards him and the young hunter raised the lighter closer to the hat. There was a milisecond set aside for the realization. The man seemed to connect what burning it would do, and what it was, and for a second Sam can almost believe the monster in front of him had been human. Liam swallows, his gaze breaking before he looks down. When his eyes return up, the previous moment of weakness is gone and he kept his distance respectfully, putting his hands up in surrender. "We're very much alike."</p><p>"We're nothing alike," Sam seethed almost immediately, not wanting to be compared to anyone who dared lay a hand on his brother. </p><p>"Okay, sorry it's just-" Liam sighs in annoyance, grimacing with concentration before he stares at the lighter in Sam's hand and snaps. It goes flying across the room, clattering to the floor and Sam is left with a dripping hat in his hand. Liam sighs, breathing easier and he explains, "It was messing me up, sorry."</p><p>Sam instantly hooks his foot up under the poker that's resting on the floor and snatches it out of midair, maintaining a tighter grip. Liam doesn't seem threatened, despite the murderous look in the hunter's eyes. Instead, he just keeps talking like they're friends getting brunch at a local cafe.</p><p>"We're both younger siblings," the man insists with a shrug, before he shoved his hands deep into his pockets and let out a sigh, sauntering casually around the room. "We've both been let down, hurt, betrayed-"</p><p>Sam shakes his head, "That makes one of us, pal."</p><p>Liam waves his hand, dismissing him, "Nah, you've just never actually came to terms with it because you don't want to hurt Dean. But it's about time you put yourself first, Sam. I only got Dean alone because I knew if you were there, you'd try and save him, but let's be honest," he chuckles, spreading his arms and laughing loudly, "Sam, come on, Dean doesn't deserved to be saved."</p><p>"Shut up," Sam whispers, and the volume only highlights the intensity and seriousness of his command. He was watching in disbelief, confused at how this man could be twisting his relationship with his brother so much to fit his narrative. It made him sick to his stomach, literally- Sam was swallowing bile as his insides were tied into a knot.</p><p>Liam sighs, pursing his lips, "Sammy-"</p><p>"It's Sam, don't you dare-" Sam snaps instantly, reacting immediately to someone using his nickname that wasn't his big brother.</p><p>"Sam," Liam corrects respectfully. He clasps his hands and explains, "I didn't want you to get hurt, that's why I separated you from Dean-"</p><p>"Your first mistake," Sam snarls, readying the poker as Liam takes a step before the man remembers his boundaries and retraces. </p><p>"You're too codependent," Liam winces, acting like that solved everything. It wasn't even something Sam didn't know. Of course he and Dean were codependent, they had always been and really thought nothing of it.  </p><p>Sam snorts the accusation aside though, given who it's coming from and the current situation, "What, you died and got your PHD in psychology? I didn't know there was a university for ghosts."</p><p>Liam smiles, looking down with a slight shake of his head as he chuckles, "Man, you look up to him way too much...I mean, I would know. I did the same thing- following around my brother, trying to act like him, talk like him..." he trails off in thought.</p><p>Sam knows he can't chat all day. Dean is somewhere down here, hurt, alone, and the fact that he's now stuck in here with the man who, a few seconds ago, was probably torturing his brother, makes his blood boil. And he had no way to kill him from where he was standing. Sam's panic was under control, but his chest was tight and his limbs were stiff. Liam was caught up in his own little monologue, not really paying attention to him, but still blocking the door. Not that Sam could make a run for it, or get to the second lighter which was in his duffel; Liam was only a couple feet from it. Sam needed to get to the lighter that was on the other side of the room. A stupid, stupid, plan comes to mind and Sam immediately pounces on it.</p><p>He looks up at his enemy, cutting him off before he can finish his current sentence. "You think everyone is your brother, but they're not," Sam said in pure disgust. Liam looks at him and blinks in amusement, as if happy someone is playing along with this argument and that in the end he would ultimately, what, convince Sam to leave Dean and admit he was a bad brother?</p><p>Yeah, never gonna happen. Sam shakes his head, combing a hand through his hair and insisting, "Fine, I'll bite. I know what it's like to be betrayed. I know what it's like to be abandoned. How it feels, the way it eats at you, looms over you- you're lucky you died right after, Liam, because the pain when you're alive is worse. You still have to deal with the person, act like everything is fine, when it's clearly not. But the worst part is how it makes you view yourself, isn't it?" he says, and Liam's gaze sharpens.</p><p>Sam walks forward slowly, shaking his head and slipping in a few lines with the same gentle voice he used for the girl he had just previously met. "Your brother made a mistake," Sam told him, managing to fake a smile, at the cost of him gripping the poker at his side so hard his nails drew blood from his own palms. "A bad one. He left you, alone, and that should have never happened. He was wrong..."</p><p>Sam swallows, alarm bells going off inside his head, begging him to not say what he was about to let slip. But he knew if he did say it, there was a chance he could save Dean, and he wouldn't pass that up in a million years. </p><p>"Or was he right?" Sam asked with a hint of a smile.</p><p>Liam's face switches from anger, to hate, to confusion, to despair, faster than Sam can take his next shaky breath. "What?" he croaks out, his form flickering in front of Sam who takes that as good sign. </p><p>"Well he left you for a reason," Sam says slowly, making a face. "You were close with him, right?"</p><p>"Yes," Liam snarls, taking a step forward and the young hunter didn't tell him to back off this time. </p><p>"You would have died for him," Sam nods in question. </p><p>"Yes," he spits, his voice rising. </p><p>"He loved you," Sam finishes. </p><p>A hand gripped his collar, the ghost flickering and suddenly appearing in front of him, Sam face to face with the man who screamed, "YES!"</p><p>"Then what did you do?" Sam shouted back, making Liam shrink ever so slightly. "There's no reason for him to drop every single brotherly instinct that he's been building up for years, in a matter of seconds, because he got spooked. Did you ever happen to consider that you're the problem?"</p><p>Liam was silent, his mouth opening and closing, before he finally hissed, "No-"</p><p>"But that's not true," Sam chuckled, eyes daring the man to beat him up, to prove him right. Liam's expression falters and Sam gladly explains, "You said this was the first time we met, but it's not. I've seen your death echo, I've watched you tumble down those stairs, heard every crunch, every break, of every single one of your bones," he hisses, feeling the grip on his collar loosen, "and the thing I can't wrap my head around, is the fact that a death echo is a trapped ghost! But you- you're right here, you're not trapped, and you can't be two places at once. So it's not a death echo, it's not a loop, it's your own little sad world that you've manifested that's bleeding into reality, with the purpose of making you feel better."</p><p>Liam stutters, licking his lips and mumbling, "I- you're wrong."</p><p>"I'm not," Sam insists. "It's you, wanting to relive that day, over and over and over," he snarls, intensity flaring in his eyes as he starts backing Liam up to the door, "for the sole reason of seeing your brother again, wondering what you could have done to make him stop, to make him turn around- you choose to go through that pain on repeat to try and prove to yourself that he didn't hear you, or see you, and it wasn't because he willingly left you there."</p><p>Liam was shaking, his eyes filled with rage, but his grip was loose and Sam sneered, eyes flashing, "Don't forget, I saw the way you fell down those stairs. It was loud. It was messy. Anyone would have turned back. He heard it- Johnathan heard it, and he kept going. And you wonder why, Liam. Ever stop and think maybe," Sam said in a quiet voice that was dangerously low, "It was you?"</p><p>The rubber band had been stretched, yanked, extended every single way possible. </p><p>When a rubber band is pulled to it's breaking point, it snaps.</p><p>It snapped.</p><p>"ENOUGH!" the man yelled, his eyes filled with fury as he slammed both hands into Sam's chest. The young hunter braced, knowing it was coming and he went flying backward, slamming into a wall on the other side of the room before landing on a table that promptly splintered, sending him crashing the last couple feet to the ground in the center of the broken wood. </p><p>Lying in a pile of cobwebs and broken table legs, Sam groaned, spitting up blood, the room spinning. He managed to lift his hand and roll over to see where Liam had thrown him, which was exactly where he wanted. Squeezing his eyes shut to clear his blurry vision, he grunted with effort, one hand clutching the soaked baseball cap he had made sure not to drop, the other reaching for the corner of the wall, dragging himself through the layer of dust on the floor. </p><p>Liam was already storming to get to him, flicking aside tables and chairs that broke through the wall. </p><p>Sam's hand closed over the metal lighter that had been lying waiting for him in the same corner he had been thrown into, and he grasped it, flicking it just as the pile of furniture he had crawled behind was taken by a massive invisible wave, piling up against the far wall. </p><p>"I'm going to kill your brother while you watch-" Liam screamed, stopping when his gaze fell on what Sam was holding. </p><p>"I don't think so," Sam grinned, flicking the lighter and letting the hat drop as it went up in flames in a matter of seconds. </p><p>Liam's glare turned to Sam and he screamed, lunging forward as a torrent of flames crawled up his body, eating away at the limbs that tried to reach for the younger hunter. Sam covered his head, pressing himself against the wall as the room lit up in a fiery blaze, a scream cut off as Liam's body disintegrated into embers and sparks. </p><p>The younger Winchester lowered his hand and exhaled shakily, pulling himself to his feet. Amanda and Braden flickered into view by the door and Sam faced them, breathing hard. </p><p>"Is it-" Braden asked quietly, looking around at the empty room. </p><p>Sam nodded, wincing as he made his way back over to the duffle and picked up his salt gun that he had left on the ground. "He's dead,” he assured him, before speaking firmly. “Now I need to find my brother."</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hope you liked it, drop a comment, have a wonderful day and stay tuned for part 4!<br/>I went to the store and got all this chocolate and tissues and spn merch *dumps massive pile* take whatever you need and i wish you luck with life and coping and just everything in general</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Haunted House Part 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Spoilers for season 2 finale and season 4</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hi awesome readers. How ru today? This is probably my favorite thing ive ever written. ever. idk why.<br/>BUT HAPPY THANKSGIVING im thankful for this awesome show and family and all of you, thank you for reading :)<br/>this is a little early so im proud of myself XD<br/>ANYWAY i hope you are all doing well and staying healthy and had a good thanksgiving if you celebrate it. enjoy the finale to this little mini episode!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Amanda and Branden moved aside as the young hunter wasted no time pushing open the door and leading with his salt gun, scanning the room cautiously. His light didn't reach far, not that Sam cared; he was already storming forward across the floor, picking up his pace to a low jog as he dove headfirst into the darkness of the basement.</p><p>"DEAN!" Sam yelled as he turned in a circle, waiting for a response. Nothing. It was when he nearly ran into Amanda who appeared in front of him, almost getting a mouthful of rock salt, that Sam started running; she pointed to the left at a closed door about fifty yards away. Scrambling around the furniture, not even phased by his knee hitting the edge of the table and nearly sending him to the floor, he beelined for the room.</p><p>"Dean!" Sam kicked down the door, foot driving forward and connecting with the center of the wood and it splintered away, revealing a dimly lit room. He hadn't even checked if it was unlocked first because if it hadn't been, that would be a second wasted.</p><p>His brother was slumped against the side wall, poker in his shaking hand and his head raised and turned at the door being kicked open, eyes finding Sam's instantly. He immediately perked up and croaked, "Sammy?"</p><p>Sam shined the flashlight on him and sighed in relief, visibly relaxing. "Thank God," he said quietly, about to step into the room when his brother yelled at him. </p><p>"NO! No- no! Don't- Sam, don't- I don't know if he's here-" Dean said, eyes wide with fear as he looked around, lifting his arm with a groan, the iron poker out and ready to be swung. </p><p>Sam recoiled at the yell but soon steadied himself and shook his head, assuring him, "Liam's dead. I burned the object- it was his brother's hat, he's gone."</p><p>Dean blinked, slumping further against the wall as he swallowed painfully and muttered, "Oh." Sam took a hesitant step into the room and Dean flinched as if it caused him pain, eyes screwing up as he shoved his head back against the wall and groaned, "Just hold on-" Then his head slumped to his chest, the older hunter weaving in and out of conciousness. </p><p>Sam was at his brother's side in an instant, diving to his knees and grabbing Dean's shoulders. He didn't respond at first and Sam looked over his shoulder, pouring a sloppy salt circle around the two of them since there were still restless spirits on the loose whose bodies needed to be burned. But that wasn't his concern. His concern was his big brother whose head jerked away as Sam cupped his face. As relieved as he was to see Dean responsive, the younger Winchester winced at his recoil as he tried to wipe the blood off his sibling's cheeks.</p><p>"Dean? Dean, look at me-" he said worriedly, slapping him not too gently to try and wake him up.</p><p>Dean stirred in his grasp to Sam's immediate relief and slowly blinked, his green eyes focusing. He winced in pain, gritting his teeth and managing a low, "Hey."</p><p>Sam smiled at the response and agreed, "Hey."</p><p>Then Dean's face fell and he reached up to clasp his younger sibling's shoulder, squeezing it weakly. "You look like crap," he made out weakly.</p><p>"Shut up, you don't look too great yourself," Sam looked at him incredulously. Only Dean Winchester would say something like while suffering from- oh God- Sam's breath hitched in his throat as he looked down at his brother's body. His face was beaten, and a couple of his fingers were a deep shade of blue. There was a cut on his head, his hair spiked with sweat and blood and he was bent over slightly, sporting broken ribs no doubt. His shoulder looked dislocated, and Dean's lip was busted, the fabric around his knee a darker shade from what Sam could see in the little light he had to work with. </p><p>"Don't tell me to shut up," Dean mumbled weakly. Sam ignored him, cautious of even touching his brother, not knowing what other bruises were beneath his jacket. Suddenly Dean's voice snapped him out of his thoughts and he heard him rasp, "Sammy, you've got to get out of here-"</p><p>"Hilarious," Sam scoffed. He was so concentrated on Dean's injuries that he didn't even notice the look in his older brother's eyes. There was solid truth behind what he had just said, sad eyes gazing at his younger sibling. "Okay, okay, it's not bad," Sam said and when he finally looked at his brother, the previous expression was wiped clean, Sam having no idea it even existed.</p><p>"You're a bad liar," Dean told him with a wince. </p><p>Sam gave him a look and changed his diagnosis, "It's bad. But nothing you and I can't handle. We've had worse."</p><p>"It's fine," Dean said simply. </p><p>"No, it's not-" Sam started before he cut himself off mid sentence. The younger Winchester froze. He knew his brother like the back of his hand. He knew every inflection of his voice, every stare he gave, every shift of his feet- and it was obviously known that when Dean said he was fine, he was not fine. That was the problem. He sounded...fine.</p><p>And in a horrible moment of realization, Sam figured out why, and realized why Dean hadn't wanted him to come in, and why he had pulled away when he first knelt at his side, and why he had told him to leave him- it all made sense now. Sam cursed himself for his tunnel vision; he had been so focused on his brother, that the previous anger of what Liam did to him while Sam was upstairs was overshadowed by relief. But now it was all flooding back and Sam's head snapped up.</p><p>"Dean, whatever he said to you..." he murmured quietly, bobbing his head a bit to search for Dean's avoiding gaze.</p><p>The older hunter smirked a bit, without humor, and licked his lips, his voice coming out in a harsh whisper, "I never...admitted it was my fault. You told me not to and I didn't." That was as far as he was willing to go into it and Sam had noticed the smirks and dialogue that had steered the conversation far from what they needed to discuss.</p><p>Besides, even the fact that he hadn't admitted it wasn't much. Dean had refrained from admitting it not for himself, but for Sam. Because if he had, he would have been killed, leaving Sam to fend for himself, leaving Sam alone, something Dean wasn't capable of doing. But the conversation that had taken place was the reason for the look in his eyes and the tone of his voice, and there was more than enough evidence for Sam to realize that he had left his brother alone for far too long, and that Liam had gotten in the older Winchester's head. </p><p>"He didn't get in my head, Sammy," Dean said, gazing at him with pity. The younger brother hadn't said it out loud, but Dean knew what he was thinking and he shook his head with effort, holding back the wave of nausea from that motion. "He was just..." </p><p>"If you say he was telling the truth, I swear to God, I'll ditch you," Sam warned with a quick snap, his eyes flashing, but there was obviously no truth behind it. He knew they needed to discuss what had happened, but the room was already getting colder and the salt circle around them wasn't going to be enough. Sam had to burn the bodies, and then they needed to get the hell out of dodge. </p><p>Dean chuckled at his threat and the laugh sounded coated with blood, making Sam wince. The older Winchester looks around and turns his gaze to Sam with a raspy sigh, "Well this has been fun. Sorry I brought us here." It was said in a humorous tone but the look that flashed in Dean's eyes was anything but.</p><p>Sam flicked his gaze to his brother and responded quickly, "It wasn't your fault."</p><p>Dean raised an eyebrow and actually allowed Sam to lean him against the wall, which meant things were worse than Sam thought. Much worse; now Dean was taking a big gulp of air and clutching his chest with a scoffed out, "Son of a-"</p><p>"Don't be a wuss," Sam said to him, but he poured comfort into his gaze that Dean gladly took and then dismissed, audibly snorting.</p><p>"Yeah, okay, tough guy. You'd be on the ground crying," Dean mumbled with a slight smile.</p><p>The younger hunter really didn't care about the insult, he was honestly just glad Dean was there to make it. Distracted, he handed Dean back his phone, pulled out the salt and gasoline he was going to use to torch the rest of the bodies and grabbed the flashlight, nodding to his older sibling with a firm, "Okay, stay here-"</p><p>"I want to come-" Dean said suddenly, trying to push himself up from the ground, eyes tight with pain.</p><p>"What?" Sam's face fell. </p><p>"I'm coming-" Dean insisted, shouldering the wall as he started to get to his feet. </p><p>Sam nearly dropped everything he had in his arms in an effort to stop his brother. "Dean, no-" he gripped his jacket and pressed lightly on his shoulder, trying to push the older hunter back down the wall to the ground. "I'll be fine."</p><p>"You don't know how many there are-" Dean protested, eyes wide, tone stubborn. "Sam, I'm coming!"</p><p>"No! You're not!"</p><p>"Yes I am!"</p><p>"NO!" Sam was done being nice. He knew why Dean wanted to come; everything was clicking into place. He could hear the underlying tone that his brother had been sporting since he said his name, he saw the look in his eyes from the minute he burst in his room, he could even tell by the body language. In that moment, a fury built up inside the younger Winchester so strong that when he spoke it made Dean jump. He grabbed his brother's good shoulder.</p><p>"Look at me, right now," Sam said firmly, and Dean met his eyes in guilt. "Yeah," the young hunter nodded, "I know what this is about. We'll talk about what happened with that bastard I just torched when we're far away from here. But right now, I need to go burn these bodies, and you need to stay put. You're hurt, Dean. Pretending you're not doesn't make it go away-"</p><p>"I'd like to disagree-" Dean says cockily with a wink but his smile was forced.</p><p>"Cut it out!" Sam demanded furiously, and his brother lapsed into silence, clearly not happy with it though. Sam lowered his voice, "I'm gonna go torch the bones. Then we need to get out of here, and I can't do that without you. Meaning I can't have you taking a hit, not even one. <em>Meaning, </em>I need you to stay here, get some common sense, and stop trying to be a martyr."</p><p>There was a second of complete silence as they both glared at each other, neither gaze filled with anger though, until finally Dean blinked and nodded, eyes softening. He slid to the ground and straightened with effort. Then he raised his eye at Sam who had tried to cover up a sigh of relief, "For the record, I'm not listening to you, I'm just choosing to stay. Because I don't listen to you," Dean said, as if that wasn't clear the first time or from their entire lives. "Ever," he added. </p><p>Sam scoffed at his brother's smirk and he mumbled, "Shut up." </p><p>"What did I say about telling me to-" Dean protested angrily. </p><p>Sam waved him off with a grin, making sure the salt circle was in tact before he grabbed the salt and the gasoline out of the duffel he left at Dean's side. He looked over his shoulder at his brother and teased, "Man the flashlight." </p><p>Dean still had the strength to flick him off it seemed and his brother cracked a smile before his eyes flicked to the wall, no doubt referencing what was on the other side of it. "Pile's to the left. Tip over one of the metal beds I saw down here, put the bones in it so we don't burn this entire place to the ground," Dean coughed out, wiping blood from his mouth, glad Sam wasn't looking.</p><p>"Got it," his younger brother nodded.</p><p>"Sammy, be careful," Dean warned weakly, hating the fact that he had just gotten Sam back and now he was going out of sight again, even if it was around the corner. "Don't make me come out there- watch your back."</p><p>Sam nodded to him firmly, making sure the door was left open before he turned the corner and made it to the far end of the room. As he got closer, the smell got worse, and the young hunter put a sleeve to his nose as he came across the heap of bones. Amanda and Braden suddenly flickered into existence beside him and Sam jumped a bit before he turned to addressed them. Amanda beat him to it. </p><p>"Your brother. Is he okay?" she asked with a cocked head and a concerned gaze. </p><p>Sam nodded, giving her a small smile, "Yeah, he'll be okay. Thank you. Thank you both," he said sincerely. Then he turned to the pile and spoke sharply, "Is- is this everyone?"</p><p>The two ghosts nodded and Sam felt a rumbling in the ground, gripping his salt gun and turning as he planted his feet to steady himself. Dust fell from the ceilings and some furniture groaned as it was disturbed. His gaze flicked to Amanda and Braden who had shut their eyes in concentration, and Sam frowned in concern. Braden was the first one to look up and he explained with a strained tone, "We've trapped them, but not for long." Even his body language seemed tense and their forms seemed to be dimmed and flickering more often. </p><p>Amanda shook her head with a wince and whispered, "They're angry about Liam's death." That may have been what she said out loud but her eyes pleaded with Sam and he knew she couldn't hold them for long. </p><p>The younger Winchester was already a step ahead, scanning the room for the bed Dean said he saw, ignoring the spiderwebs he dug his hands into as he dragged it across the floor. Sam bent his knees and flipped it over, the metal bottom connecting with the ground with a loud clang that resonated throughout the house. Sam coughed, stepping back as dust and bugs shot out like a fire hose, wrinkling his nose in disgust.</p><p>"What the <em>hell</em> are you doing out there?" Dean yelled weakly from the other room.</p><p>"What, you can shoot a chair but I can't flip a bed?" Sam shouted back, hearing a low and inaudible grumble in return. Then, making a face and wiping his hands on his jeans, he went to start transferring the pile to the bed, but Braden snapped his fingers and Sam's hands clasped empty air. The pile of bones was now stacked inside the bed and Sam smiled at him thankfully; he hadn't wanted to be up close and personal with the massive heap of dead people.</p><p>Braden gave him a weak smile in return and let out a small, "Hurry, Sam."</p><p>Sam nodded, not wasting any time in spraying the gasoline all over the massive pile, shaking out the last drops before reaching for the salt. </p><p>"This will put us all to rest?" Amanda asked quietly, tears streaming down her cheeks, her fists clenched, entire body shaking. She winced every few seconds, like someone was in her mind, banging on the door to be released. Sam realized that's probably what it was like, keeping that many ghosts at bay. </p><p>"Yes," he promised, working quicker, knowing she was using every last bit of her strength to help him. He finished with the salt and grabbed the lighter, flicking it open. Exchanging glances with the two ghosts he nodded, whispering, "Thank you."</p><p>"Thank <em>you</em>," Braden repeated, a content smile on his face as he stared at the flame in Sam's hand.</p><p>Sam locked eyes with Amanda who gave him a compassionate smile, before he lit the end of the pile. The two ghosts flickered once and then dissapeared as Sam flicked the lighter closed and stepped back, slipping the metal box into his pocket as the pile of bones went up in flames. </p><p>He turned back around and nearly jumped out of his skin. He should have realized that once the flames were lit, Amanda and Braden probably couldn't stop anyone anymore. He was now face to face with some very pissed of spirit, who was being burned alive in front of him, but more furious then ever. Before Sam could react, the ghost slammed him into the wall, knocking the gun out of his hands. Sam groaned, staggering to stand with a now bleeding nose from hitting the wall face first and he felt the blood trickling down his mouth, the young hunter trying to breathe as he pulled himself to his feet. </p><p>The ghost, which was half eaten alive by the flames, gazed at Sam in utter hatred. The young Winchester's eyes widened as it surged forward and Sam tensed, no weapon, when a voice rang out behind him.</p><p>"Sam! Drop!"</p><p>Instinct and trust hit the younger Winchester faster than a bullet and he immediately flattened himself to the floor as a bang from a shot gun echoed in the room. The ghost dissapeared into thin air and Sam looked up, seeing Dean leaning against the wall so he didn't collapse, shotgun propped up on a nearby chair and shoved under his arm; the older hunter had shot it one handed with his ring finger, since his trigger finger was broken. Sam held back a compliment because if he had said something, Dean would never have lived it down.  </p><p>"I told you to stay put," Sam growled instead, scrambling to his feet and grabbing his gun, getting off a round into another ghost that made a screaming appearance a couple feet away. </p><p>"I don't listen to you," Dean responded as his brother made it to his side behind the chair. Dean grinned before shuffling and pulling the trigger, a well placed blast stopping one of the ghosts from getting any closer, it's hand just catching fire. </p><p>"Twelve o'clock," Sam shouted and Dean turned in less than a second, narrowing his eyes and firing, the kickback jarring his bad shoulder. </p><p>"That was twelve forty five," Dean countered with a hiss, allowing himself a quick moment to clutch his arm. </p><p>Sam looked over with a wide smile, "You still hit it didn't you?" </p><p>The chair they were behind suddenly scraped against the ground and they both fell forward over the front of it as it shot backward. Neither had time to react as it slammed into the two of them, pinning them against the wall. Both Winchesters groaned in pain, but Dean had it worse as it crushed his ribs. Sam scrambled for his gun, firing a clumsy shot as he leveled it shakily that somehow hit it's target. The pressure from the chair released and Sam immediately shoved it back to give them some space, clutching Dean's jacket with his other hand as he kept him standing. </p><p>"I'm good, I'm good," Dean mumbled in pain, whacking him off as he spit out blood. </p><p>"You're not good!" Sam protested, but Dean suddenly turned and shoved him into the wall, firing past him at a ghost who had been reaching for the young hunter.</p><p>The spirit dissapeared in a fiery blaze and Sam turned back to Dean who gave his brother a look, repeating, "I'm <em>good."</em> </p><p>The pile of bones had been burning, but neither Winchester had been focused on it that much; they had just trying to stay alive. So when the pile sank, wails and screams echoing throughout the room, the small piece of bone that tumbled off the blazing heap and landed on the wood floor went unnoticed. And as it burned to ashes along with the rest of the bones, putting the men and women held captive by their guilt to rest, a spark ignited on the floor. </p><p>Dean was the first to notice when the blaze didn't die down in the corner of his eye; it just took up more of his peripheral vision. He looked over and his eyes immediately widened, instinctively reaching out and fisting Sam's coat, pulling him backward in a slight limp. "Sammy, let's go-"</p><p>"What- what?" Sam demanded; he had just gotten to catch his breath. The ghosts had died down, all of them disappearing around them in a column of fire. But Dean's tone was anything but victorious and Sam turned, following his brother's gaze. Eyes widening like Dean's, he let out a curse at the sight that lay before him. Dry leaves, dust, and wood were not a good combination for a spreading fire and in the matter of seconds they had hit each other on the chest and started backpedaling, the entire far end of the basement already engulfed in flames. </p><p>Sam dove into the room and scooped up the duffel, shoving inside their salt guns, confident all the ghosts were gone. He rushed out the door and looped his brother's good arm around his shoulder, Dean against his side as they staggered to the center of the room.</p><p>"How did you get down here?" Dean asked with a wince. </p><p>Sam looked at the flames in despair. The dumbwaiter was on the other side of the room, and his face fell; it would have been a lot easier to get Dean upstairs with his injuries. But that wasn't an option now, not unless they wanted to wade through the fire. His older brother saw that in his gaze, both of them turning for the original entrance in unison.</p><p>They stumbled to a stop once they got there and looked up in dismay the endless rungs, Dean letting out a low curse. Sam looked over his and his brother's shoulder at the flickering fire that was casting odd shadows on their faces and the room, the entire basement lit up a golden orange. "Can you climb it?" he asked Dean, his gaze requiring an honest answer. </p><p>"You go first, I'll be right behind you," Dean nodded casually, gulping weakly at the ladder, still not putting pressure on his leg, Sam holding him up. </p><p>"Nice try, don't bullcrap me, Dean," Sam snapped angrily, his grip tightening on his brother's jacket, still not ducking from under his shoulder, "Can you climb it?"</p><p>His older brother grumbled but nodded, understanding the urgency as he untangled himself from Sam's arms and stepped onto the first rung, hauling himself up with effort. Sam supported him as much as possible, which wasn't a lot because Dean was soon out of reach half way up.</p><p>"You good?" Sam said nervously, stepping backwards as the fire crept closer, eating away at the rotting wood floor, closing in on them. He heard the roar of the flames and the snaps and crackling that occurred whenever a piece of furniture was consumed. The entire room seemed to be on fire and Sam hated it; he had always hated fire, but he needed to make sure his brother got out so the young hunter maintained his calm.</p><p>"Peachy." Dean was almost to the top, slowly but surely making his way up the ladder with a dislocated shoulder, a shattered chest, and a bum knee. Leave it to Dean Winchester to pull something like that off. The floor was staring to cave and the ceiling near the back of the room had caught fire too, spreading faster, devouring the wood and walls, turning them charred black.</p><p>Sam inched closer to the ladder as the fire raged a stone's throw away but he didn't dare step onto the first rung until Dean had pushed the wooden panel up and managed to roll onto the floor of the kitchen with a cry of pain. Over his shoulder the older hunter rasped, "Sam, get the hell up here, now."</p><p>The younger sibling immediately obeyed, Sam climbing a couple of rungs before he threw the duffel up to get rid of some of the bulkiness, Dean catching it and shoving it sliding across the kitchen floor. The older hunter had dragged himself over to the hole, looking down at his brother as Sam climbed.</p><p>"I'm the one with the bad shoulder and busted leg, why are you slower than me?" Dean demanded, but he could hear the panic in his voice. Sam hadn't looked at the flames in a while, but he could definitely hear and feel them. His ankles started to heat up and Sam forced himself to not look down, even when Dean's eyes widening meant the end of the ladder caught on fire. </p><p>"Sammy, climb faster," Dean whispered, sweat dripping down his face from the heat of the flames, even from where he was. </p><p>"No, I've been taking my time!" Sam shouted back sarcastically, hair plastered to his forehead, eyes stinging from the smoke that wrapped around his body like fog, his entire body outrageously hot. He winced as he felt the end of his jeans singe and his shoes grow warm. That wasn't even the main problem. The problem was the wood rungs and walls that were slowly crumbling down, along with the ladder itself. He was about a foot and a half from the top when the rung he had put his foot on snapped.</p><p>Sam yelped as he dropped, grasping for something, anything, to keep him from falling to the flames. His eyes widened and his stomach plummeted as he choked out, "De-"</p><p>"I gotcha little brother," Dean swore, closing a tight grip over the young hunter's wrist, stopping his fall. Sam slammed into the ladder hard, crying out in pain before he looked up, clasping his brother's arm in a firm lock. </p><p>Dean nodded at him, clenching his jaw as he started moving backward, pulling Sam up with a groan of effort, the younger Winchester scrambling up the remaining rung that practically disintegrated under his foot. Sam shoved himself up and onto the kitchen floor with the help of Dean who gave his arm a harsh yank just for good measure. He was sent tumbling, crashing into his brother who had yet to let go of his wrist. They groaned as they hit the dust covered floor, the flashlight spinning as Dean's arm hit it. </p><p>Sam gripped Dean's jacket, the two of them pushing each other back to increase the distance between them and the fire that was making it's way up the ladder, the only light in the entire room. Smoke starting to coat the ceiling in a thick blanket, the black clouds shooting up from the hole in the ground and the Winchesters helped one another to their feet as they coughed, no time to celebrate victory.</p><p>"Head down," Dean demanded as the smoke coated the ceiling and spilled down the walls, the older hunter reaching clumsily into the mop of Sam's hair and keeping him low as they headed for the door. </p><p>Sam looped Dean's arm around his shoulder as well as the duffel, his older brother clicking the flashlight on with his bad hand. Coughing, they stumbled out of the room and down the hall, through the broken vases, shattered glass, splintered wood, and the remainder of the chandelier that was scattered along the foyer. Sam felt Dean somehow moving faster than him, if that was even possible, pulling him forward with a haunting look in his eyes. Sam forced himself to keep up with his brother as they helped each other limp for the front door, not looking behind them.</p><p>The young Winchester reached forward in desperation, closing his hand over the handle and pulling with all of his might, letting out a chuckled cry of relief when it cracked open. He and Dean shoved it open the rest of the way and picked up their pace as they crossed the porch, tripping down the steps and collapsing, landing harshly on solid ground in the dead grass. </p><p>The Winchesters lay on their sides, breathing hard at the foot of the stairs in the moonlight, eyes blinking, adjusting to being back outside. The air was so much cleaner and they took gasping breaths, Dean wheezing in pain as he clutched his broken ribs, turning onto his back, uncurling his hand from where he realized he was still gripping Sam's jacket. "Is that the last time I'm gonna have to carry you from a burning building?" he rasped, and Sam realized the cause for the ghostly look his brother had been sporting; Dean had been put in that situation far too many times. </p><p>"I carried you," Sam shot back with a wince, before he looked over at his brother who was clutching his dislocated shoulder. "Did you- pull me up- with your bad arm," he made out, blinking and wiping the sweat and blood from his face.</p><p>"Yeah," Dean nodded in the grass, turning his head weakly to look at his brother. "I'm awesome." Sam's lip curled and he let out a laugh, Dean cracking a smile before the two of them lapsed into pained silence, just laying on the ground. "You good?" Dean asked, turning and spitting blood out on the ground with a grimance.</p><p>Sam closed his eyes and nodded, "Yeah, yeah. You?"</p><p>"Great," Dean sighed, glad to just be out of that house. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. </p><p>"Dean?"</p><p>"That's me."</p><p>"This belongs to you," Sam said, getting to his elbows as he reached around his neck and pulled the necklace off, dropping the amulet lightly into Dean's waiting hand. He watched as his brother's gaze softened and a smile tugged at his lips as his hand curled around it for a second. Then Dean winced as he raised his upper body and his fingers found the end of the leather cord, looping it over his head, before pulling it down to rest on his chest. The older hunter visibly relaxed and laid back down, rubbing his finger over the brass amulet, his eyes slipping shut as he let out another sigh. </p><p>"Thanks Sammy."</p><p>Sam smiled lightly and patted his brother on the shoulder, sinking back into the ground with a groan of pain. The sound made Dean open one eye and he turned, watching his younger brother wipe the blood from his nose. After giving them both a minute to catch their breath, Dean dug out his cell phone and dialed three numbers, knowing they could be back to the hotel long before the cops got here.</p><p>"Yes, hello, I think the Warren house is on fire. Up on route- yeah, that one. Some prank by teenagers but I can smell smoke, just thought someone should check it out," he lied, suppressing a groaned as he shifted on the ground. "My name? Yeah, my name is-" Dean flipped the phone shut and then rolled over, clapping Sam on the back as his younger sibling made a face, curling the ground in his fist.</p><p>"Let's go, brother," Dean said lowly and Sam's head turned towards him, eyes focusing almost instantly.</p><p>The young hunter nodded back and started to stagger to his feet, holding a hand out for Dean. His older brother gave him a stubborn horizontal high five instead of accepting the help and Sam rolled his eyes, gripping his brother's jacket and hauling him up despite his protests. After a minor shoving match, aimed at all the spots that didn't sport massive injuries, the two instinctively looped their arms around each other and started walking for the path in the woods. </p><p> </p><p>They had just begun patching each other up, a process that was painful but well known by both of the Winchesters. Dean had begrudgingly taken a shower and then Sam stitched up the wound on the back of his head after some arguing about the difference between a gash and a cut. A gash was worse than a cut, and it was a gash that was on the back of Dean's head. The older hunter had insisted it was a paper cut. </p><p>"You're bleeding," Sam said furiously. </p><p>"Yeah," Dean nodded with an eyebrow raise. "So?" </p><p>"So?" Sam repeated, his voice rising. "You're bleeding!" </p><p>"Yes, I am. It's not the end of the world," Dean scoffed.</p><p>Sam purses his lips, keeping his voice calm, "You could get an infection."</p><p>"Oh dear God," Dean drawled, waving his arms dramatically, immediately wincing and clutching his shoulder, shooting him a look. "Not a word."</p><p>Sam had somehow eventually won that argument after proving that bandaids were not the correct treatment for gushing wounds. Now he was wrapping the older Winchester's broken fingers, circling tape around them carefully. Dean was flipping him off while he tried splint one of his fingers and Sam shot him a look, grumbling, "You're five, you know that?" </p><p>"Six and a half," Dean corrected with a wink, taking a swig of the whiskey bottle they had on the table in front of them. Sam rolled his eyes, finishing off the tape before he stood with the help of the chair and walked around behind his brother. Dean tensed, steeling himself as his younger sibling placed his palm on Dean's back and then gripped the front of his shoulder.</p><p>"On three?" Sam asked. Dean nodded, clenching his jaw and squeezing his eyes shut as he shifted his position on the chair, Sam tightening his grip. "One-" Sam jolted with his palm, pulling Dean's shoulder on one end and pushing forward on his back.</p><p>A loud snap was heard and the older hunter groaned as he ducked his head, moving his clenched fist to his mouth as he exhaled sharply. "What happened to two and three?" he growled, shaking Sam off, meeting his younger sibling's eyes as he came back in front of him. </p><p>"Two and three," Sam said innocently, giving him a light smile. </p><p>"Two and three," Dean mocked in a high pitch voice, glaring at him, "Shut up. You done?" </p><p>They had made it back to the hotel, Sam knocking over a potted plant at the end of the hallway so that the man at the front desk left his post. Then they were able to slip unnoticed through the lobby, to the elevator, and up to their room without anyone seeing. Dean hadn't been happy about it but Sam made him promise to get patched up first. He had done a bit of patch work himself- a couple butterfly bandages on the cuts on his face and a washcloth to wipe the blood off. </p><p>"Not even close. You want ribs or knee next?" Sam asked him. </p><p>"Neither," Dean grinned, taking a drink and winking. </p><p>"Knee it is," Sam decided firmly.</p><p>The older hunter sighed, giving his brother a look as he rolled up the sweatpants he had changed into, "Now...it's worse than it looks." His knee was a shade of black and blue, covered with blood and definitely swollen, Dean only able to bend it about halfway. Sam's face fell and he immediately went to work, grabbing ice and starting to disinfect it after he got rid of as much of the blood and dirt that had gotten into the cut. Dean grit his teeth the entire time, not making a sound and Sam had Dean's leg propped up on his knee, grabbing gauze to wrap it with. Then he looked up and eyed the whiskey, putting out his hand. </p><p>Dean passed it over but instead of Sam drinking from it he splashed it on the older hunter's knee and Dean recoiled, slamming his fist down on the bed. "I...don't like you," he huffed out.</p><p>"I know," Sam smirked, putting ointment on the worst parts before he wrapped up the knee entirely. Then he made his brother turn so that his leg was resting on the bed, laying an ice pack on top of it. Dean winced, hand clutching it with a low grunt of pain and Sam patted his back with a smirk, Dean slapping him away. Then Sam faced him and nodded forward with concern, "Ribs bad?"</p><p>"Nah," Dean shook his head. They burned a small bit, and it hurt to breathe, but not that much- nothing he couldn't handle. Of course, the Winchester pain index was higher than a normal person's and Sam rightly narrowed his eyes, walking over to grab some pain killers and an ice pack, tossing them to Dean who downed the pills with a gulp from the whiskey bottle he had snatched back, making a big show about putting the pack against his ribs with an exaggerated sigh that made him grab his chest with a low growl. </p><p>"That's what you get," Sam smirked. Satisfied that he had done all he could for now at least, the young Winchester sank down in the chair across from his brother and looked him over, announcing, "You still look like crap. Just less."</p><p>Dean shot him a look of sarcastic appreciation before assuring him, "You did good, Sammy." Concerned he showed too much emotion he shot his brother a glare, "Now, are you done mother-henning? You touch me one more time and I swear, I'm throwing punches."</p><p>His younger brother gave him an incredulous look, "You got the crap beaten out of you!"</p><p>Dean shook his head, "Irrelevant." He twisted on the bed, taking the ice off of his knee and lowering it to the floor, ignoring Sam's protests. He tossed the ice pack to the side too and batted his brother's hand away. "Sam, you got to play doctor, I allowed it-"</p><p>"You didn't allow it, you fought me tooth and nail every second!" Sam protested. </p><p>Dean waved him off, "You're delusional. I was very cooperative." Ignoring Sam's look, and smirking knowingly, he looked at his baby brother. "Seriously though," he frowned. "You look like you're addicted to demon blood again with that bloody nose."</p><p>Sam's RBF was activated and the young hunter's growled in a monotone voice, "That's not funny."</p><p>"It's a little funny," Dean grinned, before he cut his smile and pointed firmly to the bathroom. Sam let out a massive sigh and crossed the room with a drooped head and Dean followed him triumphantly. His younger brother sat down on the edge of the tub, but not before Dean saw him limp once, hand going for his knee, before immediately walking normally. Sam sat down, facing his brother who was narrowing his eyes at him. </p><p>Sam tried for an innocent look. "What?"</p><p>"What's up with <em>your</em> leg?" Dean demanded. </p><p>"Nothing."</p><p>Dean should have noticed before, but there was a section of his pants that was crusted red. The older Winchester planted his feet, crossed his arms as best he could with his sore shoulder, and glared at his brother, not blinking. Sam straightened and stared back, and that continued for about thirty seconds before the younger sibling finally gave up and sighed, bending over to roll up his jeans. He missed Dean's triumphant smirk. </p><p>"I just hit it on the edge of a table, that's all," Sam mumbled, as he revealed the cut that had started bleeding again when he pulled the fabric up.</p><p>Dean knelt with effort and prodded the side of Sam's knee, his younger brother hissing in pain. Dean looked up in concern and asked, "Just the cut or deeper?" He wasn't sure if he had torn a muscle or fractured a bone.</p><p>"Just the cut," Sam assured him and Dean trusted him after a quick glance, grabbing the first aid kit that Sam had left on the counter before he started patching it up, getting payback by dumping some of the whiskey on the cut. Sam punched him in his good arm with a groan and Dean snickered before sobering his expression and assessing the wound. "Stitches," Sam nodded knowingly before Dean could say it and the older Winchester nodded. </p><p>"You're gonna wish you were nicer to me earlier," Dean teased, however he did it as gentle and quickly as he possibly could, not missing the way Sam's hands clenched on the side of the tub so hard his knuckles turned white. When he was done, he clapped his sibling on the shoulder who took a shaky breath and exhaled. "Not bad, see?"</p><p>"Okay, I can't look at the nose anymore. Take care of it." Dean got the sopping wet washcloth and wrung it out, handing it over to Sam who started harshly rubbing at the blood. The older hunter immediately snatched it back with wide eyes, spluttering, "God, it's like you've never done this before. You had bloody noses all the time as a kid," he grumbled, folding the washcloth over his own hand and wiping a bit of the blood off before he flicked the end of the fabric into Sam's face.</p><p>"Easy strokes," he chided, handing it back to his brother who rolled his eyes but lessened the force. Once all the blood was off, Dean reached forward and pinched the bridge of Sam's nose, fighting off his younger sibling. "Not broken," Dean decided finally. </p><p>Sam groaned, holding the washcloth over his sore nose and grumbling, "I wouldn't be surprised if it was after that."</p><p>"You're just a wimp," Dean explained before he grabbed the washcloth from him and re soaked it with water, handing it over so Sam could start to wipe off the blood from the cut Amanda gave him on his temple; the wound had dripped blood down his face and neck. Sam handed it back once he was done and Dean helped him to his feet, reaching to inspect the cut on the side of his head. </p><p>It wasn't deep enough for stitches, so he handed his brother a butterfly bandage which Sam attached in front of the mirror with a slight wince. It was when he straightened and Dean put a hand on his back that Sam let out the hiss of pain he tried to keep down. </p><p>Dean recoiled and put up his hands in shock as Sam twisted to avoid his touch. "What the hell was that?" The older Winchester demanded.</p><p>Sam shook his head and tried to push past him, "Just my back."</p><p>"Uh huh," Dean said angrily, pulling the hem of his shirt up a slight bit. He saw the black and blue bruises along the small of his back before Sam whacked his hand down and he glared at his brother. "That's bad," Dean insisted furiously.</p><p>"It's not bad," Sam protests as he starts forward, probably to go clean the guns from the duffel, like that was priority. </p><p>"You look like some kindergartners drew on you with markers," Dean shoots back as he remembers the dark bruises in streaks along the small of his back. Sam rolls his eyes and Dean shook his head, getting in front of his brother and putting a hand on his chest, stopping him from walking forward any further.</p><p>Sam sighs and Dean gives him a look, "Shower will help. And then take some Tylenol. At least." He grabbed some of his brother's clothes from his duffel bag and chucked it at his chest, Sam catching them one handed and sighing.</p><p>He looked at his older brother and asked, "You'll be okay?"</p><p>"Don't be a chick," Dean told him. "Yes, I'll be fine for ten minutes. Or thirty because you take long princess spa showers."</p><p>Sam shook his head with a smirk, shutting the door to the bathroom. </p><p> </p><p>He would never admit it, but the shower did help. For his back, for getting the rest of the blood off, and to just take a second to breathe. He got into his change of clothes and ruffled his wet hair, rubbing it with the towel, wary of the cut on his head. His nose was starting to get better; he was able to breathe through it, and the swelling of his knee had gone down. He'd probably get ice for it after, because Dean would make him anyway. </p><p>Sam finished up as quickly as he could and opened the door, looking for his brother, who he didn't see on the bed or the chair, the ice packs gone, probably returned to the freezer. He turned the corner rather quickly and his shoulders relaxed- Sam hadn't even realized they were tense. The door to the small balcony was open, the curtains blowing a slight bit from the breeze let in through the shut screen.</p><p>They hadn't really had rooms with balconies before this one; usually it was a motel they stayed at for low double digits a night. This had been an exception since they needed to stay here, and both of them had made jokes upon finding the unusual accessory to the room during their sweep for EMF and hex bags when they had first arrived. He felt a slight breeze and a small bit of spray coming from the door and he realized it was raining. </p><p>The young hunter's brow immediately furrowed and he pushed open the screen, looking sideways. Dean was sitting with his back up against the wall, feet touching the edge of the small balcony, whiskey bottle in hand. He opened his eyes which had been squeezed shut and for a split second Sam saw them flash with pain before he mumbled, "Hey, Sammy."</p><p>"Hey," Sam responded slowly, closing the screen behind him, looking at the wet ground Dean was seated on, the older Winchester not even phased. It wasn't pouring, but it was enough to leave his older brother's shirt and pants damp, his hair plastered to his face. </p><p>"You feeling better?" Dean asked like he was trying to engage in small talk, staring straight ahead. </p><p>"Dean, it's raining," Sam said with a slight chuckle. </p><p>Dean took a swig from the whiskey bottle and nodded, "Thank you, Captain Obvious." </p><p>Sam stood there for about another half second before he stepped to the side and put his hand on the wall, easing himself to the ground with a wince of pain, sitting shoulder to shoulder with his brother. He wiped his hands on his jeans and then turned to look at him, asking, "Want to tell me why you're out here?"</p><p>Dean swallowed a gulp of whiskey and nodded, "In the words of Natasha Bedingfield, I'm feeling the rain on my skin because no one else can feel it for me, and did you know, only I can let it in." <span class="Rxerq">Sam shook his head with a low chuckle and Dean smirked before he stared straight ahead again.</span></p><p>
  <span class="Rxerq">Sam allowed his brother a couple seconds of silence, but he refused to let him avoid the subject for too long. He kept his head down but he asked quietly, "So are we going to talk about what happened?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span class="Rxerq">"Nope," Dean responded firmly with a forced smile, taking as deep a breath he could with his hurt ribs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span class="Rxerq">Sam pursed his lips and mumbled weakly, "Dean-"</span>
</p><p>
  <span class="Rxerq">"I said no, Sam," Dean said almost instantly, his voice harsh, gripping the bottle with both hands. </span>
</p><p>
  <span class="Rxerq">"Tell me you didn't believe him," the young hunter said quickly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span class="Rxerq">Dean turned, his eyes flashing with a warning and he growled, "Sam-"</span>
</p><p>
  <span class="Rxerq">"Just tell me honestly that you didn't believe him and I'll drop it," Sam said seriously, putting up his hands and waiting for a response. Dean looked sideways at him and laughed like he had just asked an absurd question. Sam waited, raising his eyebrows and his older brother snorted, avoiding his gaze before he took another gulp of whiskey, comfortably settling into silence. </span>
</p><p>
  <span class="Rxerq">Sam let out a scoff and shook his head, running a hand over his face as he slumped against the wall, "You've got to be kidding me."</span>
</p><p>
  <span class="Rxerq">Dean's voice was low but it was fierce, and the young hunter's gaze snapped over instantly. "You died, Sam. You got stabbed in the back a stone's throw away and I couldn't stop it. All he did was remind me of everything I'd done that had screwed you over- like bringing you back into hunting-"</span>
</p><p>
  <span class="Rxerq">"Dean-" Sam spluttered in retaliation, shocked at how far fetched his brother's evidence was, instances which could be easily overturned by proof spanning literal decades. "You sold your literal soul for me! You went to hell, for <em>me</em>!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span class="Rxerq">"You don't get it! It shouldn't have happened in the first place," Dean shouted angrily, his hand carding through his spiked hair. "You've gotten beaten to a pulp, even tortured, in front of me. You've gotten hurt on my watch since we were kids. I tried my best to protect you from dad, but-" Dean made a face as he winced, "he still..." the older Winchester's voice broke as he trailed off and he moved on, eyes practically red, hand clenched over his good knee to probably stop it from shaking.</span>
</p><p>
  <span class="Rxerq">”You protected me from dad,” Sam growled, his eyes flashing. There was no way in hell he would allow his brother to even consider that he hadn’t sheltered Sam from their father. He shook his head, “Dean you took hits for me because of dad-“</span>
</p><p>
  <span class="Rxerq">"Yeah, but you got them anyway. Maybe not from dad, but from other people, other monsters. How many times have I patched you up? How many times have you gotten hurt when it's been my job to keep you safe? Hell, if we go at it, I'm usually the first one to throw a punch, don't pretend I'm not. And let's put aside physical crap," he said with a light laugh, utterly void of humor. "I've said some junk to you, Sam, that's set you back on your heels. So don't shake your head at me, or ask if I'm kidding," he snarled, but the anger was directed at himself, not his brother. "Because I'm not. And when Liam told me that you'd be better off without me in your life, I wasn't gonna argue."</span>
</p><p><span class="Rxerq">Sam nearly choked, wanting to storm back to that house and burn a man who was already dead. </span> <span class="Rxerq">"You really think..." he trailed off and swore, "Dean, have the past twenty some years slipped your mind?" The older hunter rolled his eyes and Sam turned towards him, hitting his good shoulder with enough force to make his sibling look at him in surprise. </span></p><p><span class="Rxerq">"I'm serious. If you actually believe that you haven't kept me safe, or protected me, then we have a problem." The older Winchester's lip curled and he stared straight ahead, causing Sam's chest to heat up. </span>"You've carried me out of a fire twice- now three times. My entire life, when everyone else lets me down, I know you won't. You always have my back. Always. It's the only thing I've known to be true," Sam told him firmly. And then he waited. Confused on what else he could possibly say because he had thought everything was straight forward. </p><p>"Got it. You done?" Dean drawled, looking over in annoyance and pure anger in response to Sam's tone. </p><p>The younger Winchester glared at him with wide eyes, almost more mad than he has ever been. It shocked him into silence and Dean nodded with another half smile, about to take another drink with a scoff, but Sam suddenly snapped, snatching the bottle and grabbing Dean's collar. He hated himself for doing it, but he pulled Dean up and slammed his brother against the wall, hands gripping his jacket. Dean let out a groan of pain and muttered, "Sam, what the hell-"</p><p>"You need to snap out of this," Sam said fiercely through gritted teeth, tightening his grip as Dean shook his head in disbelief. "I mean it. You didn't even have a childhood because of me. Dad drilled it into you that I was your responsibility, and that wasn't fair, but you've done your best. If you even consider the fact that my life would be better without you in it I swear to God-" he threatened furiously. </p><p>Dean watched him cautiously, aware of the grip on the front of his coat. The young hunter's eyes were fierce and he was near face to face with his older sibling as he whispered harshly, "I'm good with this job, I'm good with who I am, I'm good with who you are," Sam insisted angrily. Then he softened his look, "My home is in the passenger's seat of that car, driving down crazy street, with you blasting the same eight tapes over and over again. Understand? Don't you dare think otherwise."</p><p>The younger Winchester then swallowed as he uncurled his hand from Dean's coat, re forming it into a fist and resting it on his brother's chest as he shook his head, "So if you think for a second, that I would be able to last more than a day without you in my life, then maybe I'll have to knock some sense into you."</p><p>"Hit me and I'll deck you," Dean grumbled with a hint of humor in his tone, shoving Sam off of him with a harsh hit the the arm.</p><p>Sam chuckled softly as he steadied himself. "Oh yeah?"</p><p>"Yes, one hundred percent," Dean warned.</p><p>"Fair enough," Sam admitted, staying where he was facing his brother. He looked up at Dean, whose expression had softened and was now bouncing awkwardly on the soles of his feet. Sam whispered quietly before his brother could make some sarcastic comment or joke about chick flicks, "Just tell me you believe me. Tell me you believe me." </p><p>Dean's head stayed down for the next couple seconds but for Sam it ft like hours. When he finally raised it, the young hunter nearly sighed in relief at the familiar expression and the older Winchester nodded, "Okay. Okay Sammy. I believe you," he said sincerely, reaching and clasping the back of his  younger brother's neck before letting it drop.</p><p>Then he turned with a wince sank back to the ground with a tight sigh, sliding down the wall. Sam followed suite, slumping down next to him, legs bent, arms resting on his knees. Dean offered him the bottle of whiskey which his brother accepted. Dean looked over at him and said, "How long you rehearse that speech?" </p><p>"Six hours," Sam responded, gulping down the liquid that tasted like fire going down his throat. He took another swig of it before he passed it back to Dean. </p><p>"Well, you happy now, Samantha? You won. We starred in a chick flick," Dean said lowly, shooting him a look. </p><p>Sam knocked him in the shoulder with a roll of his eyes as he shoved his head up against the wall, muttering, "Don't call me that."</p><p>"We don't have to hug or cry or anything, right?"</p><p>"Dean-"</p><p>"Cause I've had enough of the sappy crap for the next two weeks," The older hunter announced, enjoying the annoyed look he got from his baby brother when he turned to glance at him. "Hell, months."</p><p>"Dude, I swear-" Sam protested. </p><p>"I'm not kidding. Don't even touch me for three days. Minimum. And no puppy eyes either."</p><p>Sam hit him in the shoulder again and Dean shoved him back with a laugh, his younger sibling snatching the whiskey bottle as they settled on the wet concrete, the rain starting to come down harder. </p><p>"So Amanda, huh? She was trying to help after all?" Dean asked after a second. </p><p>Sam nodded, taking a sip from the bottle. "Helped me find you and put it all together. And Braden. Both of them- they didn't deserve to die."</p><p>"Well I owe them one. And you met Ashley I'm guessing," Dean added with a wince, his hand going to the amulet around his neck, thumbing it like he did whenever he was in deep thought. "I tried to stop Liam from taking it but then he just tossed it to her and-" the older hunter's gaze contorts into one of anger. Sam wants to ask what happened, because he can see the pain as well as the fury, but when his eyes fell on the older hunter's clenched fists and he decides otherwise.</p><p>"Well luckily I'm usually the one picking up after you," Sam told him and Dean smirked. </p><p>They lapsed into silence again, just staring forward with the rain coming down, passing the bottle every once in a while. And after a couple minutes, Dean got to his feet with the help of the rail and looked at his brother who was still seated on the floor, eyes flicking open at the movement. "Dude," Dean said incredulously, managing to keep a straight face as he mocked his younger sibling. "It's raining. Why are you out here?" </p><p>Sam groaned, getting off the ground as Dean laughed, insults lobbed towards him as he headed for the door. Sam followed his older brother inside and shut and locked the and screen and sliding glass behind them. Once back in the room, Dean ran a hand through his wet hair and suggested, "Painkillers aren't working nearly as well as I hoped, so want to watch a movie?"</p><p>The younger hunter shrugged and nodded as he ran a hand over his face, "Yeah, sure. What's on?"</p><p>Dean reached for the remote, holding his ribs carefully, eyes narrowed in deep thought as he thumbed through the channels. "Untouchables," he announced happily, about to click into the beloved film. </p><p>"No," Sam groaned from where he was shoving the weapon's duffel off his bed to clear it. </p><p>"Bitch," Dean mumbled, glumly looking through the rest of the guide. </p><p>"Jerk," Sam shot back, walking over so he could see the TV. "What about the documentary on-"</p><p>"You lost me at documentary."</p><p>"Come on, Dean-"</p><p>"Raiders?" </p><p>"Sure."</p><p>"Nice."</p><p>"You want popcorn?"</p><p>"What kind of question is that?" </p><p>"Butter?"</p><p>"Once again, what kind of question is-"</p><p>"Point taken."</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>more chapters to come! ive got like 3 or 4 more planned, if youve got a suggestion drop it down below and ill try and get to it. ill be switching back to marvel soon but ill keep this open because one shots give me life.<br/>I hope you liked this chapterrrr please leave a comment and kudos i rly appreciate it. have an awesome day!!!<br/>&lt;3 &lt;3 once again, idk what the finale is :))))))))) it is a figment of bad imagination and i refuse to accept it!<br/>LOVE YALL new chapter soon &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. John Kept the Trophy...Dean went to the Game</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Bad Day at Black Rock ring a bell? Amazing episode. There's a scene where the boys go through John's lock up and stumble upon Sam's 1995 Division Championship Soccer trophy that John kept all those years. There's got to be a story behind that. Dean is 16 Sam is 12</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Heeyyyyy awesome readers this was supposed to be out a lot sooner BUT it was supposed to be a lot shorter. So you had to wait a bit but it’s a longer chapter so let’s hope that’s a win XD I also got sick (not COVID whew) just a 2 day thing that knocked me out and then was like hey ur fine WHICH WAS ANNOYING. So I’m chill now haha<br/>This soccer game may or may not (or most definitely may) be based on a true story so #14 and #72 ha suck it.<br/>Also quick PSA: I hate Johnnnnnnn :)<br/>Another PSA: School suckssssss<br/>Okay enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Twelve year old Sam laced up his cleats on the floor of the motel room. He expertly double knotted them and then tucked the ends of the laces in the crossed X's on the top of the shoe so they stayed in place. Dean had always done that with his hiking boots; for that was Sam learned how to tie his, by watching him, so he figured he would carry the skill over. He had been sitting on the wooden floor for quite some time now, which usually he wouldn't find comfortable, but today, Sam didn't mind. He was excited because he was getting ready for a soccer game, spending the last couple minutes shoving on the long cotton socks he had bought with his own money and folding them so the stripe was visible and even, and tying up his cleats. </p><p>The game was at 12:30. His team's warm up started at 12, and the drive was about 15 minutes. Sam's new friend, Tommy, and his parents, had offered to give him a ride, but Sam had said no; his dad had told him the other night that he was coming. This wasn't out of the blue- Sam had been bugging him for weeks, talking non stop about the <em>division championship</em> he and his team had made it too and how important it was and <em>dad, you have to come!</em> </p><p>Sam was grateful he was even allowed to be on the team at all. They hadn't stayed in one place for so long in his entire life. His father had originally been against him playing the sport, but Sam had used his puppy eyes and he was ninety nine percent sure those hushed voices coming from his father's room meant Dean had a hand in the outcome as well. The verdict was he was allowed to join the team, but it meant he would get to and from the games and practices himself. John made it clear this wasn't going to effect the family business in any way; Sam still had to complete the same research responsibilities as usual. </p><p>It hadn't necessarily worked out the way John intended; Dean usually dropped Sam off at the practices and picked him up instead of the younger Winchester finding a ride every week. The oldest had also taken a shift for minimum wage at the local diner in town while Sam was playing soccer to cough up the money. Why? Because John had a twisted mindset when it came to finances. A hundred dollars for gun repairs and ammunition, he was down, but a hundred for a soccer team for his youngest- the man grumbled like he was being asked to donate his kidney. His priorities were clear. </p><p>Sam didn't know about the diner job, he just assumed Dean persuaded his dad to pay the small fee- after one of those talks between the two older Winchesters in quiet voices with the door shut so Sam couldn't hear. They did that a lot and he didn't appreciate it, but he did appreciate the way that Dean pretended not to see him scrambling back to his room, and the way he rubbed his hair with a knowing smile before he went to read a magazine or watch TV.</p><p>The games were on the weekends, the same days where Sam usually tagged along for hunts now that his age was into the double digits. The boy was surprised he hadn't had to miss as many games as he thought he would have been forced to; little did he know, that Dean had stepped in on more than one occasion, making sure Sam got to stay home so he could make it to the games, not allowing John to drag his youngest with them. </p><p>Sam stuck to the deal for months, not complaining once, and he was proud of himself for doing so. But now with the season winding down, it was so important his dad came to this final game. The championship. Because Dean had put in the effort, his father hadn't. Dean had stayed and watched some practices, encouraged him and even passed the ball around in the yard with him when he was supposed to be learning an exorcism. But John hadn't shown one bit of interest.</p><p>That's why it was so revolutionary when his father had eventually gave in and nodded, telling him he would drive him and watch. Dean currently had the Impala, out picking up some salt and iron pokers and doing some research for their dad. He would drive to the game after. That car was Dean's pride and joy, and really the only thing John had gifted him. Of course it was still their dad's, but ever since Dean had recently gotten his license, he was driving it non stop and their father allowed it because of the way Dean treated it, like it was made of gold. John and Sam were going to drive one of the cars Bobby loaned them, and meet his older brother there.</p><p>So, Sam had told Tommy with a proud smile that, no, he didn't need a ride, his dad was taking him. Tommy gave him a high five, understanding his excitement, and told him to call if it changed. Sam insisted it wouldn't. </p><p>With that memory on his mind, the moment he flung himself into his father's arms when he announced he would go, Sam's lips curled into a happy smile. He twisted on his spot on the floor, reaching behind him, his bangs falling over his eyes. With a strained arm, his hand found the strap of his backpack and he pulled, dragging it across the floor until it hit his side. He rolled his soccer ball out from under the bed and stuffed it in, scratching excitedly at the frayed stitch on one of the pentagons. Sam then used the edge of the table to help himself up off the ground, brushing off his green pants that had the soccer club's logo ironed on the side.</p><p>There was a mirror on the door at the end of the hall and if he walked forward just slightly, he could see himself in it. Sam grinned again, inspecting his uniform, bending his knees, tucking and untucking his shirt until he was satisfied. Then he turned to see the bold number on the back of his jersey. </p><p>
  <strong>83</strong>
</p><p>Ironic, because that was the year he was born. Dean thought it was funny; he chuckled when he saw it, holding it up when Sam shoved it ecstatically into his ears. They talked about his jersey the whole way home after that practice. His older brother also frequently teased him saying he thought soccer was stupid, but Sam knew he was kidding; Dean had that proud smile on his face when he thought Sam wasn't looking.</p><p>The youngest Winchester smiled happily again, before he set the bag down on the nearest chair and walked over to the fridge, grabbing a water bottle from the side door and slipping it into the big pocket before zipping it shut. </p><p>"Dad?" he called down the hall to where he last saw his father. He was probably in his room; the door was closed but the light was on. Sam bit his lip, chewing on it for a second before he tried again, louder this time. "Dad?" </p><p>That was when the door opened and Sam's heart rose, scrambling to get his bag and wait patiently. His father came out of the room, shutting off the light behind him and walking quickly down the hallway. Sam was reaching for his shin guards he left on the floor by the door when he suddenly straightened in confusion, the pieces of gear falling to the ground with a clatter. Over his father's shoulder was a familiar massive duffel and Sam laughed nervously, brow knitting in deep thought, "Dad, there aren't gonna be monsters at the game." </p><p>"I know, Sam," John said distractedly, reaching for the gun he kept in the drawer by the front door, slipping it into the waistband of his jeans. The older man gathered the papers splayed on the table into his arms and shuffled them, sliding them into the bag hanging from the chair with an audible crinkle he seemed to ignore.</p><p>"Dad, what's- what's going on?" Sam asked quietly, grasping at false hope, his eyes following his father as he walked around the room. He already knew. Sam didn't really know why he asked the question. He guessed he just wanted to hear it for himself. </p><p>John winced as he looped his hand around the strap on the bag he had just filled while explaining, "A couple of hunters need my help, they're not that far from here."</p><p>"After the game, right?" Sam asked slowly, trying for a smile and failing, searching for his father's gaze. </p><p>John finally looked at him and frowned, walking over to Sam and placing a hand on the back of his neck, "I'm sorry, Sam. I can't make it, this came up."</p><p>Why was he not surprised? But more importantly, if he wasn't surprised, why did it still hurt like hell?</p><p>"Oh," was all Sam said.</p><p>John's gaze softened a bit at his tone and he tried to be gentler, "Look, I called Tom's parents, they're almost here to swing by and get you. I wish it was better timing, buddy, believe me. I wish I could be there, but I've got to leave. You can tell me all about it when I get back, okay? You bring home a trophy and we'll celebrate." He clasped his cheek with a smile and patted it, but it didn't comfort Sam much, it just felt awkward.</p><p>"Can- can Dean come still?" Sam asked quietly, looking up with hope.</p><p>John winced again, harder this time, "No, kiddo. I'm gonna need his help on the hunt."</p><p>"Oh," Sam whispered again, head dropping to his chest again.  </p><p>The younger Winchester's face had been steadily falling, and now it had hit rock bottom. Of course his dad would do this. Of course he cared more about hunting then soccer, he always had. And when Sam put it that way, he almost understood. He had just been so excited- Sam realized it was his fault for getting his hopes up. His dad was going to go save someone's life, after all. Why was he so upset about that? Snapping himself from his thoughts, the young boy nodded miserably. He mumbled, "Okay." </p><p>John ruffled his hair and gave him a smile, Sam weakly looking up and trying to return one halfheartedly. John opened the front door just as Tommy's car pulled up, the twelve year old waving from the backseat. With a blank expression drained of the previous excitement, Sam shouldered his bag, walking slowly out of the motel room, his forgotten shin guards lying on the ground, propped against the wall where Sam had let them slip from his fingers. John closed the door behind them once they were outside, the wind blowing Sam's bangs to the side. Behind him, he heard the low thud of the lock being turned and John slipped the keys back into his pocket before kneeling to say goodbye to him, and <em>good luck, Sammy- make sure you play hard, okay, son?</em></p><p>Sam never really met his eyes, he simply mumbled, "Yes sir," eyes flicking to the side as his father who clasped his shoulder, waved to Tommy's parents before he dumped the duffel in the trunk and then slipped into the driver's seat, turning it on and reversing almost instantly. Sam faced the SUV in front of him and his face turned red, starting the walk of shame towards the open door. </p><p>Toomy scooted over to give him some room once Sam had made it to the car, face beet red. "Hi, Sam!"</p><p>"Hi, Tommy," Sam said quietly, closing the door behind him and putting on his seat belt. The boy was a wide blue eyed, light haired, energetic kid, who had befriended Sam at the school he was currently attending. Sam's boot during a game of kickball had gotten them talking at third base (the small space beside the bleachers) in the gym, and he had convinced him to ask his dad if he could join the team. Sam was used to moving a lot, so he knew he couldn't make close friends with a lot of people, but Tommy was sweet, supportive, and a good guy. Sam would miss him when it was time to ditch this town. </p><p>Tommy understood the mood change and the other boy chewed on his lip, craning his neck to look at the car that did a quick loop, stirring up dust before leaving the parking lot, John not even taking a second glance as he sped down the road. "I'm sorry your dad isn't coming," he offered, returning his gaze to the boy who was sitting in the set next to him.</p><p>Sam shrugged and tried for a smile, "It's okay. He has work."</p><p>"He knows it's the last game though, right?" Tommy asked in confusion. His mother chided him from the front seat, shooting Sam a look of compassion from the mirror. The young Winchester forced a grateful nod in return.  </p><p>Sam swallowed a lump in his throat and hugged his soccer bag closer to his chest, nodding slowly. "Yeah, yeah he knows."</p><p>"Well we're still gonna win this game, so at least you can be excited for that," Tommy grinned, hitting his friend on the arm in an attempt to cheer him up.  </p><p>Sam smirked, "I guess so." He stared out the window the rest of the drive to the field, even as Tommy's parents blasted some music that in other circumstances, Sam would have gladly shouted along to. He was just trying to think about anything other than the fact that his father had let him down, again. </p>
<hr/><p>
  <strong>Pack it up. Sending location. </strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>     - What time?</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>Now.</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>     -Dad, we can't.</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>Couple of buddies needed help. Probably vamp.</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>     - Sam's game?</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>This came up. </strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>     - Dad?</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>Meet in 15.</strong>
</p><p>Dean's eyes widened with anger as he looked at the message again to make sure he read it right, muttering, "Son of a..." He jammed his thumb down and clicked out of the text, hitting the call button as he drove the Impala back to the hotel. He turned the wheel, shoving the phone against his ear and shoulder. </p><p>It rang a couple times, leaving Dean fuming for a few seconds, subconsciously driving faster, before John's gruff voice met his ear, <em>"Was I not clear enough, son?"</em></p><p>Dean had never been one to disobey an order. If his dad said jump, he jumped; it was what he was taught, how he was raised. But this wasn't right, and this involved Sammy, something that trumped even the deepest moral fibers of being a good son. "No you were crystal. I guess I wasn't clear enough," Dean shot back. He was going to get hell for this later, but he frankly didn't care.</p><p><em>"Dean, it's not ideal, I know that-" </em>his dad said guiltily. This was John Winchester's one life vest he was throwing. This was the one and only gentle sentence he allowed himself to spare, where for a split second, he recognized Dean's anger, and the fact that this was a douche thing to do. But the man was close to snapping- he was always close to snapping- and this was the last time in this conversation that he would speak in a voice that was not layered with anger and order. John was warning him. Dean didn't heed the warning.</p><p>"Sam has been begging you to go to that game for weeks and now you bail on him?" he demanded. </p><p><em>"I told you, something came up-" </em>John growled, losing his temper.</p><p>"Okay, well then you deal with it. I'm gonna go watch my little brother play soccer," Dean said angrily, turning into the motel parking lot. He knew he was stretching the rubber band, and he knew it would snap. What stopped him from caring was picturing the look on Sam's face when John knelt in front of him and put on a fake smile and told him that he would celebrate when he got home. </p><p><em>"Dean," </em>John warned dangerously. Dean knew his father well. The tone warning was long gone, but this was the consequence warning. His dad's voices had many layers to it, something that Dean had spent years memorizing and understanding. It helped when Sam got into an argument with him; Dean always knew when to step it. Well this was his last chance to pull up. If he let this drop now, maybe all he got was a stern look every once in a while for the next week or so. If he didn't...it got a lot worse.</p><p>"Did you at least get him a ride there?" Dean asked, the thought of that making him speed faster to their complex, eyes searching for Sam who could, for all he know, be waiting on the bench outside the house. He wouldn't be surprised. </p><p><em>"Of course I got him a ride,"</em> John snarled, before getting right back to business without a second thought. <em>"Be here in fifteen."</em></p><p>"Dad, no," Dean said firmly into the phone as he turns into a space and slams the car into park.</p><p>
  <em>"Dean, that's an order. I am your father-"</em>
</p><p>"And right now, you're being a lousy one," Dean responded furiously. "I'm going to the game. Call me when you're heading home so you can hear how your son did." With that, he hung up on John Winchester and got out of the car, shutting the door shut behind him with incredible force. Then he winced, patting the car as he went to get the supplies out of the trunk, "Sorry baby."</p><p>As he dug the stuff out and carried it to the door, he realized what he had just said and done. </p><p>"Oh my God, I'm so screwed," Dean muttered with a shake of his head, running a hand through his spiked hair with a tight sigh.</p><p>He had crossed a line, he knew he had. He had never dared speak to his father that way. But with all of the anger he felt right now, Dean didn't really care. He walked to their room and opened the door, dumping the crap he had picked up like his father asked on the table. Then he grabbed one of their foldable chairs from the corner and a bottle of water, stopping as his gaze fell upon green shin guards laying forgotten on the floor. He scooped those up as well with a slight smirk and then left, locking the door behind him. </p><p>Sliding into the front seat of the impala, he cranked up his music, and then reversed out of the parking lot, heading for the soccer field. </p>
<hr/><p>"Sam, I don't know what to tell you. The ref won't let you play without shin guards," Coach Robert told him with a wince. </p><p>Sam looked down, cursing himself for not grabbing them before he left. He had just been so disappointed with his dad it had slipped his mind for two seconds, long enough for the hotel room to be locked behind him. He had realized once he got to the field, and he wasn't about to ask Tommy's parents to drive him back. He was screwed. First his dad didn't come to the game, Dean didn't come, and now he couldn't even play. It would have been worse if they had come in a way. Sam could picture the look on his father's face telling him to be more responsible, telling him how disappointed he was. </p><p>"I'm sorry, Sam. Maybe you can ask around if anyone has an extra pair?" his coach suggested, giving his shoulder a squeeze. The man hurt for him, and he hurt for his team; Sam was one of their best players, but rules were rules. </p><p>Sam nodded, knowing there was no one who did; someone had asked a practice earlier and the consensus was a no. Miserably, he backed away, wandering to the mountain of bags on the sidelines, sinking down onto his ball. It was bad for it, he knew that; you weren't supposed to sit on them. Dean called him a chicken when he did back at home whenever they kicked it around in the motel parking lot.</p><p>Sam stared at the grass and dug at it with his foot. His eyes stung a bit and he frowned, straightening. He rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand just in case and took a shuddery breath, picking at the stray fabric from his socks, furious with himself. </p><p>Someone walked up behind him and suddenly kicked the ball out from underneath him. Sam fell backwards in shock, landing hard on his butt on the wet grass. He looked up in annoyance as the ball spun away, bouncing off people's water bottles. </p><p>"Chicken," Dean said with a grin. </p><p>Sam looked up to see his brother standing over him and he scrambled to his feet instantly, so fast he nearly toppled over again. Sam pushed the bangs from his eyes, exclaiming, "Dean!"</p><p>"Hey, little brother," Dean greeted him, his smile widening at Sam's excitement. It was then that Dean knew he made the right choice in coming to the game. </p><p>"Dad said you had to go on the hunt with him though?" the younger Winchester said in confusion, searching his older brother's gaze for indication of what happened. </p><p>"I told Dad to screw off," Dean shrugged with a smirk that was only slightly forced. Then the playful glint in his eye was back and he shoved Sam in the shoulder, telling him, "So you better be good, otherwise I'm gonna get the crap beaten out of me for nothing."</p><p>Sam's face fell. In his happiness, he totally forgot the fact that he wasn't allowed to play. He hung his head, hand rubbing his arm as he shifted his weight. He hadn't just let himself down, he had let Dean down. Dean, his older brother who had made a sacrifice to be here. Mustering up the courage, he mumbled out quietly, "I- I can't play, Dean. The game starts in two minutes and I forgot my shin guards."</p><p>"So that's what they're called," Dean nodded thoughtfully, digging the pieces of plastic out of his pocket. Sam's chin was still down in shame and Dean rapped him on the head with the two of them, his younger sibling looking up and rubbing his curls in annoyance. Dean smiled and held them out for Sam whose eyes widened once he realized what they were.</p><p>"Well are you gonna take them or make me hold them for you?" Dean asked with a light chuckle. </p><p>The younger Winchester gleefully grabbed them from his brother's outstretched hand and sank to the ground, shoving them in his socks and adjusting them before yanking the cotton back up and adjusting the stripes. Not even a second later, his coach called everyone over and Sam's head snapped to the side. Dean bent down and hauled him upright, shoving him forward with a grin, "Go get em, tiger."</p><p>Sam smiled as he jogged over to his coach who noticed Sam's face and the shinguards, connecting the dots. He gave Sam a thumbs up and the youngest spun around, risking tripping as he backpedaled towards the huddle so he could smile at his older brother. "Thanks, Dean."</p>
<hr/><p>Dean gave him a smirk as he wandered over to find a seat by the parents section, stopping and backtracking to talk to the girl in the ref's uniform who was doing toe touches with the ball. Her brown hair was up in a ponytail, swishing back and forth as she expertly trapped the ball between her feet. He flashed a smile as he approached her, "Hey."</p><p>She sighed and looked up in annoyance as she lost concentration, the ball rolling towards him. Dean stopped it with his foot and carefully kicked it back. Their eyes locked and her expression changed. She scooped the ball up and did a slight juggle with it on either knee, smiling back, "Hey."</p><p>"I'm Dean," he held out his hand. </p><p>She shook it with a laugh, letting the ball drop to the floor, stilling it with her foot. "May," she introduced herself. </p><p>"You got some skills," he admitted, before he cocked his head. "I play a bit myself." If one counted the street practice he did with Sam whenever their dad wasn't home. He made a face and raised an eyebrow, "Not to brag, but I am pretty good." </p><p>May smirked in amusement and pursed her lips, sobering her tone and appearing serious, "Oh really? Let's see what you've got." She kicked the ball towards him and Dean gulped, looking down as it landed between his feet. There was no way he was going to try and juggle it and embarrass himself.  </p><p>"Well...I'm in jeans," he told her weakly, knowing he was caught red handed. He looked up to see if she had bought it, which she hadn't, but the smile on her face meant that she wasn't pissed he had lied. </p><p>"Oh," she laughed, playing along. "Got it. Maybe next time." He kicked the ball back with a sheepish grin and she stopped it with the outside of her foot, absentmindedly tapping the ball in a steady rhythm without looking. </p><p>"So...you come here often?" the older Winchester asked, turning on the charm as he leaned against the folded chair under his elbow. </p><p>"Every weekend. It's a good job, pays well, and I get to meet boys who try and tell me they're pro soccer players." Dean looked down at that, slightly red but she chuckled lightly to show she was kidding, pointing to the two teams who were gathered in mobs on either side of the field, "Do you have a brother on the team?" </p><p>Dean nodded, pointing to Sam who was on the end of the green huddle. He announced proudly, "Number 83. Sammy."</p><p>"I've reffed for his team before, he's pretty good," she said with a nod.</p><p>Just then, the ref in the center blows a whistle twice and Dean realizes she has to go. The two teams start bleeding onto the field, the spectators clapping as everyone runs for their positions. He starts backing up as she flicks up her ball with her foot and catches it, Dean asking, "So if I wanted to...discuss a play after the game, what would you say to that?"</p><p>"Hmmmm, if it was to involve coffee or lunch, maybe I could be persuaded," she told him slowly. Then she winked, "You can tell me more about your pro soccer team."</p><p>Dean chuckled, nodding and reaching to scratch the back of his neck as he promised, "I'll do my research." </p><p>"See you, Dean," May waved a bit, jogging down the sideline, slipping a whistle into her mouth and tightening her ponytail.</p><p>Dean gave himself a little pat on the back and a cocky tip of his head as he spun around and starting walking. "Score."</p><p>He weaved through the ocean of parents until he found a spot and set up his chair, sinking down near the center line. Sam was searching for him and Dean gave him a little wave, his brother grinning back. His younger brother was positioned on the right side but behind the first set of people. From what Dean had learned about soccer from Sam, that meant he was a midfielder, and right side made sense; Sam had always had a hard right footed kick. </p><p>He leans forward onto his knees and watches as the main ref puts up his hand and blows a sharp whistle, the person in the middle passing the ball to the left. One of Sam's teammates, a blonde kid, dribbles for a second and then knocks it back to his brother. Sam has the ball now and he's moving forward with a surprising burst of controlled speed, head up, not even looking at the ball at his feet. </p><p>"Watch it, Sammy-" Dean says sharply as he sees one of the opponents barreling towards him. Sam expertly cuts the ball, leaving the kid confused and turned around, before his younger brother gives a quick glance and lofts the ball to a teammate who starts running it down the side. </p><p>"Nice one, Sam!" </p><p>That wasn't Dean who had shouted that. The older Winchester looked sideways in surprise at one of the parents, and turns as he hears some echoed shouts of his sibling's name. A smile spreads onto his face; Sam had clearly made an impact on the team if half of the parents knew his name. Then his smile immediately falls because it was someone else's father cheering him on, not John. He cursed the bastard. </p><p>Sam stayed back for the next couple seconds, and Dean realized he was watching the field. When he shifted right, he was cutting off a passing lane. When he moved forward, he was offering support and putting pressure on the other team's defense. Even when Sam didn't have the ball he was controlling the field, and it was brilliant to watch. </p><p>Sam was the only one who wasn't taken out in the first half. And that was saying something; it was very, very hot. Dean regretted jeans, although he never wore shorts, and he pulled off his coat, leaving it hanging on his chair. He drank a third of his water already, determined to save the rest, but definitely thankful for it with the sun bearing down in the 90 degree weather. It made him squint by just seeing it reflect off the turf, which he knew heated up even more. He couldn't imagine what it was like to be playing in it.</p><p>But Sam didn't seem to be tired, even with all the running he was doing, which was a lot. With every clash of players, he was there, and that meant he was all over the field. The young Winchester had been the one to give the assist to the striker, taking it up to midfield before booting it for one of this offenders who took possession and had the open field handed to him. He dribbled down and scored, and Sam's team all began screaming, jumping up and down and running to hug the kid who had sank the ball into the net. He ran back over beaming and gave Sam a high five, Dean's younger brother grinning as they spoke back and forth for two seconds, before clapping each other on the back.</p><p>Sam turned to look at Dean with a slow smile and his older brother pointed at him. Sam knew what it meant. <em>He</em> had made that happen. The happiness on the boy's face went unmatched, and Dean sank into his seat proudly. The interaction had been observed by a couple of the surrounding parents. </p><p>"That's your brother?"</p><p>"Sam is your brother?"</p><p>"He's been amazing all season!"</p><p>"You should be so proud of him, really."</p><p>"Sweet kid."</p><p>Dean's presence hadn't gone unnoticed, and when it was announced who he was, everyone tried to talk to him. His exchanged looks with Sam for the first twenty minutes of the game now made sense to the people who called out their compliments. Some parents had even come up clarifying if he was Sam's brother and shaking his hand, telling him what a good job Sam had done this season, and how happy they were to have met the boy's older brother. </p><p>Yes, he was a sweet kid, Dean responded. Yes, he was very proud of him, he assured everyone. Yes, that's my little brother, Dean told them all with the confident smirk and the tip of his head. He glanced at the boy who was digging his cleat into the ground in deep thought while there was a throw in in progress on the other side of the field and couldn't help but smirk. </p><p>Sam played a great first half, his foot skills went unmatched by anyone on his team or the other, and Dean realized what an asset he was. Sam made the plays, he was the reason it was 2-0 going into halftime, but he had never taken the ball for more than twenty seconds. When there was an open lane, the younger boy would use the powerful kick of his to launch it to someone else. Dean had also noticed the other team eyeing him; why wouldn't they? He had been making them all look like fools whenever someone went to try and steal the ball. Sam would slide the ball between their legs or dance around them, dragging the ball back and using a burst of speed to get the upper hand, leaving the opponent in his dust. </p><p>That was why, when the whistle blew for halftime, and Sam started walking off the field, Dean kept his eyes on him. Sure enough, a big kid from the other team clocked him in the shoulder as he passed, Sam stumbling because of his small frame. His younger brother clutched his shoulder as he staggered, looking at the bigger kid who glared at him as he retreated to the other side. </p><p>Dean stood from his chair immediately, flipping his water bottle in his hand, putting on a fake smile as he weaved through the parents and made his way around the field. May was by the corner, drinking from her water and she nodded with concern, "I saw that kid just now with Sam. I'll keep an eye on him next half," she assured him. </p><p>Dean gave her a grateful smile, "Thanks, May. Yeah, I'm just gonna go check on him."</p><p>"He's doing great," she informed him before she made a face, admitting, "You know, with the way he's playing now, he could defiantly make it onto a high school team when that time comes, and possibly get into a division 1 college if he keeps this up. Don't know if that's the route he wants to go..." she trailed off with a shrug. </p><p>"Wow, really?" Dean asked, looking over at the huddle, trying to pick out his short brother in the sea of green jerseys.</p><p>"I usually have an eye for talent," she said with a smirk. </p><p>"Of course you do, you agreed to lunch with a pro soccer player," Dean spread his arms as he walked backwards, heading for Sam's team who had broken off to get water. </p><p>May laughed and waved him off, tossing the ball to one of the other refs and walking across the field. Dean turned his attention to his younger brother who had just sat down by his ball, flexing his shoulder, wincing as he gulped down water, his bottle nearing empty. </p><p>Dean walked over and grabbed his good shoulder, squeezing it lightly and Sam leaned into his touch, immediately knowing who it was. "Hey, Dean," he gasped for breath, wiping his bangs that were plastered to his forehead from his sweat. </p><p>"Hey, kiddo. Running yourself down out there, don't you think? You don't have to show off for me, bud, you're doing awesome," Dean assured him, worried this was Sam just trying to over extend himself. </p><p>"Nah, he does this every game. I don't know how you keep going, dude," one of his teammates told him, clasping Sam's hand as the young Winchester weakly raised it with a grin. </p><p>Dean nodded with a proud smile and looked down at him and the almost empty bottle. He handed Sam his own water and his younger brother pushed it away but Dean shook his head. "Nu uh. Drink," he commanded.</p><p>Sam hesitated, shooting Dean a look before he rolled his eyes and took it from his older sibling's grasp. Sam took a few gulps and wiped his mouth with his jersey before he let out a tight sigh and flexed his shoulder with a flinch he tried to stifle. It didn't pass under his big brother's radar. </p><p>"You okay?" Dean asked seriously, his tone firm. </p><p>Sam looked into his eyes and winced when he saw the look his brother was giving him. "You saw that?"</p><p>"Of course I saw that," the older Winchester scoffed. "The kid who needs to lay off the donuts just checks you in the shoulder and you think I won't notice?" Dean demands, reaching and pressing on it slightly, feeling around along his shoulder for where the pain was coming from, like any other time Sam hurt his arm during a hunt. </p><p>"It's fine, it's just bruised," Sam assured him, weakly shoving him off with a promising look. Dean took his word for it and sank down off of his haunches and onto the ground next to his brother. Sam drank more from the water bottle and then gulped for air, taking a shuddery breath before he collapsed backward into the grass.  </p><p>Dean watched the rapid rise and fall of his chest slowly even and steady and he finally reached and hit his cleat. "Sammy, they're losing 2-0," Dean told him seriously. "They're gonna get physical this next half."</p><p>"Yeah, I know," Sam grumbled, getting up to his elbows and rubbing his forehead.</p><p>Dean narrowed his eyes, "You don't take it, got it? Look at me, Sam." He waited for his brother's gaze to finally meet his and he saw his brother's puppy eyes looking back at him. "Don't let them push you around."</p><p>"I won't," Sam murmured with a small nod, but it wasn't that promising. </p><p>"Also, take the ball for yourself once in a while. You've had a couple open lanes and you've passed it. You've been really helping the field, but take it and go, man," Dean encouraged him. "You've got the skills."</p><p>Sam broke into a smile and teased, "I thought you didn't like soccer."</p><p>"I don't," Dean clarified, making a throw up gesture that made Sam flick turf at him. "Dumb sport," Dean teased.</p><p>"It is not," Sam protested.</p><p>"It is too," Dean retorted, before he made a face, "But my little brother can always use some pointers. And he's not half bad." </p><p>Sam grinned and looked down, scratching at his shin guard. Dean's head turned as he heard the ref call a one minute warning and everyone started moving for the huddle. The older Winchester popped up first, offering Sam his hand before swiping it away. Sam whined at him as he fell for the juke, his older brother smirking. Sam got to his feet, brushing off his pants, handing Dean's water bottle back to him with a grin of, "Thanks." </p><p>"Hustle, Sammy, hustle," Dean chided, pushing him gently in the back as his brother laughed and went to join his team. Dean flipped the water bottle in his hand with a grin and then slipped it back into Sam's bag that was lying on the grass. Then he jogged back around the field and into his seat. </p><p>The two teams had switched sides and Sam was on the other end of the field now; the first half he had been on Dean's side. The whistle blew and the offense started with the ball, moving it forward with some quick passes that got by the first few people. Sam dropped back to help his defense and stole the ball from the guy in red who had it. </p><p>Dean grinned, hearing the applause and his brother launched it forward, getting it to the other side of the field where two kids fought for it. Dean's smile soon fell as the player he had stole it from came running back to return to his position, "accidentally" stumbling into Sam, making the boy trip forward.</p><p>Dean tensed, his hands curling, and he would have socked the kid then and there, but his brother wasn't him. Sam stayed on his feet and mumbled something, probably sarcastic by the looks of his expression. The bigger kid turned to retaliate but there was a sharp yell of a number from the sideline and May pointed at the player she had called out, the kid rolling his eyes and turning away. Dean eased up, giving her a nod of thanks, but the older Winchester did let out a low curse, hoping that was the last of it. </p><p>Ten minutes later, it clearly wasn't. Sam had the ball this time, by the sideline, and three players closed in on him. In the first half, Sam had created space for his team by moving, now he created it by just having the ball. Whenever he gained possession, at least two people were on him, playing physical, jabbing their feet forward with no skill whatsoever in attempts to mess him up. Sam had gotten away every time, but three seemed a little much. There was nothing his teammates to do; he was boxed in, but somehow the young boy still had control of the ball as the boys were up against him, pushing and shoving along the sideline. </p><p>He held his own...until he got clocked. Dean saw it from across the field. The elbow came up, slammed into Sam's nose, and his brother twisted from the nasty hit, hand coming up to clutch his face. He could have sworn he heard a cry of pain from where he was and Dean was out of his seat. The main ref blew the whistle and the three opponents backed away with their hands up as if asking what they did. Dean wanted to tear all of them a new one but his gaze was on Sam. </p><p>One of Sam's teammates was next to him and the young Winchester had a hand on his knee and one hand on his nose as he bent over, red liquid dripping down his arm and into the grass. Sam's coach went over with a napkin and Dean was still standing, unsure if he should go to his aid or stay where he was. It was when Sam turned to face the general direction of where his older brother was sitting and put up an okay sign that Dean eased himself back into his seat. </p><p>Dean knew it was just a bloody nose, and he had gotten worse hits on hunts, but he knew this wasn't the end of these dirty plays. What the hell- the kid wasn't even going out. His coach knelt in front of Sam, handing him some napkins which Sam used to plug his nose. He pulled them away after a couple seconds, pinching the bridge of his nose as he tilted his head up, stopping the bleeding. Then his coach spoke to him and Sam nodded firmly. The man clapped him on the back and folded up the tissues in a clean one, heading back to the sideline. A couple people in the crowd around Dean started clapping as Sam jogged back to his position with a quick shake of his head, rubbing his sore face.</p><p>The ref was still talking with the boys and it seemed everyone was waiting for the inevitable yellow card. None came when the ref blew the whistle. It was utter chaos on the sidelines. Profanity, mostly by Dean, insults, and just indistinguishable yells roared and the ref waved his hands, blowing the whistle again. Everyone quieted down against their will after the repeated whistle. </p><p>"Do refs always suck this much?" Dean grumbled to no one in particular. He saw May shaking her head on the sideline and turn away, cleat scuffing the ground. At least he knew he wasn't crazy in thinking that was a bad call.</p><p>"All the time," one of the mom's answered him with a sigh, taking a swig from a flask.</p><p>"Me too," Dean sighed, glancing at her drink, sinking into his chair. He realized what he had said and turned to see her giving him a look. His eyes widened and he quickly recovered with a forced smile, "With- other drinks. Not alcohol. Because I don't drink yet. Because I'm not twenty one. Obviously." </p><p>Dean turned his attention back to the game awkwardly, hand rubbing the back of his neck. He leaned forward on his knees, eyes trained on his brother who seemed to be doing better. He shirt was stained, that was for sure, but he was breathing fine and his feet were planted. Dean knew his brother was smart enough to know his older sibling would be pissed if he pushed himself too far. Dean was here, which meant he wouldn't try anything. </p><p>The game resumed, and Dean watched the intensity level rise in the entire losing team, but no encounter compared to the aggressiveness they showed Sam. Unfortunately for them, his brother had flicked a switch, Dean could tell. He was calmer now, using the other team's anger and impulsiveness to his advantage. He was smart too, keeping the ball for only a couple seconds because he knew they had had enough of him and would charge, freeing up the field. </p><p>But Sam couldn't do everything. That was clear after the first goal, when the defense fell apart, letting a kid right through. He kicked a well placed ball to the right corner for a goal. 2-1.</p><p>They were in dangerous waters now, Sam dropping back next time someone got a break away. He put pressure on the guy who had the ball, running up next to him, nearly steering him out of bounds, but the boy stuck his cleat out, slamming it right into the shin guard of the young Winchester, effectively tripping him. Sam sprawled in the grass and slid a foot before he winced and got to his hands and knees. No whistle came, and the spectators began yelling as the ref continued to run along side the player with the ball who sped past a defender and scored. </p><p>"Are you BLIND?" Dean shouted furiously, watching as Sam spit out turf, brushed himself off, and flexed his ankle, limping back onto the field with an embarrassed look on his face.</p><p>2-2.</p><p>It was winding down in the last five minutes, no one giving up the next goal, cautious of every single touch, not wanting to be the one to make the mistake. The passing continued for a while, Dean wiping the sweat from his forehead. </p><p>But now suddenly Sam had possession further up the field, where he had only been to help put pressure, the ball passed to him by a teammate while Dean had been looking down. Sam had a lane and a whole mess of open field, and Dean sat straighter in his chair, wondering how he had gotten so close to the net so quickly, wondering where the defense was, wondering why his brother was hesitating.</p><p>"<em>Go</em>, Sam!" Dean yelled.</p><p>It wasn't a cheer like he had allowed himself to shout a couple times over the course of the game, it was a reinforcement. Dean had noticed his little brother never really took the ball and ran a lot for himself. He expertly trapped it and made everyone close around him, before passing into the open space that he had created. This was Dean telling him to go, to take it himself.</p><p>And Sam heard him.</p><p>And he went. </p><p>Sam had always been fast. He was shorter than Dean now, but Dean had a feeling he would get taller eventually, maybe when they were in their twenties. But he had always been fast, his legs pumping just as quick as Dean's whenever they were forced to run during a hunt. It made no sense, but then again, Dean hated running. Sam on the other hand, the weirdo, loved it. And he saw that same speed now as the young Winchester tore forward, tapping the ball with every four steps he sprinted, a blur down the center of the field. </p><p>"Come on Sammy," Dean whispered. Sam cut to the side past one of the defenders, and now it was just a goalie in front of him, another defender from the side who Dean was sure his brother saw. </p><p>He got closer to the net and the goalie lunged, not for the ball, but for Sam, in a moment of anger, unwilling to let up any more goals. Sam twisted away, turned for the open net that was just waiting for the young Winchester's strike, and-</p><p>Dean heard the hit from where he was sitting. </p><p>The defender, who had been running after Sam, now closed in, and he slammed into the young Winchester's side. It was a blatant foul, as if the ball didn't even exist, done out of anger and fury, shoulder angled down like the boy was playing in the NFL. Dean's little brother crumpled as he went flying, literally launched off his feet, flipping sideways, leg getting tucked behind him before he landed flat on his back in the grass with a sickening thud.</p><p>It was quiet. </p><p>Sam didn't move. Not an inch. He lay flat, and Dean didn't even hear a cry of pain. There was just silence. And his little brother was still. </p><p>Dean was up before he even knew it, sprinting across the field a millisecond after Sam hit the ground. His chair collapsed behind him as he pushed off of it, and his vision tunneled. Dean's legs were pumping and his heart thudded in his chest. The sun beaming down made him squint but nothing would make him take his eyes off his brother. Sam was gasping on his back, hands trying to clutch his chest. Dean dove to his knees by his side, grass staining his jeans.</p><p>"Sammy? Sammy!"</p><p>Sam was trying to breathe and failing, his chest constricting, shuddering, his hand grasping Dean's sleeve, fingers curling tightly around it, eyes focusing with relief at his older brother leaning over him. </p><p>"Sam, breathe," Dean told him firmly, wincing as he had to helpless watch his brother choke on air. </p><p>"I- c-t- can-t- De-" Sam made out, his hyperventilating getting faster as he tried to clutch his chest with his other hand, knuckles white around his brother's sleeve. </p><p>"You got the wind knocked out of you," Dean told him as he kept his voice even and calm, squeezing his good shoulder. "I'm gonna ease you up, okay? It helps when you sit."</p><p>"K-ay-" Sam choked, squeezing his eyes shut.</p><p>Dean frowned and tightened his grip on his brother, slipping a hand behind his neck and cupping the back of his head, getting a fist full of his jersey as he slowly pulled him upright, letting his brother fall forward onto his shoulder. Sam's hand had not left his sleeve and the boy doubled over, digging his forehead into his older brother's collarbone, gasping.</p><p>"Easy," Dean mumbled weakly, hand resting on Sam's back. "Easy. Try and breathe. You can do it, Sam."</p><p>Sam's face contorted with pain as he wheezed but he was eventually able to take shuddery breaths. A chill of relief rippled through Dean who let out a sigh, snapped out of his concentration when a hand is put on the older Winchester's shoulder. </p><p>It's Sam's coach who had jogged over, telling him, "Son, I've got him." The man seemed nice. Which was why Dean felt slightly bad for what he was about to say because right now he would not have anyone tell him to-</p><p>Sam beat him to it, his eyes widening as his hand curled tighter around his brother's arm as if that was even possible, muttering, "N-o-"</p><p>"I'm not going anywhere, Sam, you can relax," Dean promised firmly, not even acknowledging the man behind him, the coach stepping back knowingly and guiding Sam's players away who were starting to crowd them. "Freaking koala," Dean muttered to his brother, referring to the hand that had yet to leave his sleeve. He clasped Sam's shoulder to keep him upright, eyeing him carefully, looking for any visible external injuries.</p><p>As if on cue, the younger boy hissed in pain, grabbing his leg, the one that had gotten awkwardly trapped beneath his body when he landed. Dean's eyes snapped down and he brushed off some of the black pebbles, turf burn clear as day.</p><p>"Well that looks great," Dean laughed without humor. Sam's look of pain made him think that it went deeper than the ripped skin and Dean frowned as he asked, "Can you move it?"</p><p>"Yeah, but it hurts," Sam whispered, demonstrating by pulling his knee towards his chest very slowly and then back down with a wince. "And my head," he groaned miserably, Dean realizing he had practically bounced it off the ground after he was shoved. Sam put his palm on the ground and flinched, recoiling it, Dean realizing his hands were ripped up too. The boy's voice was tight with pain as he started to bend his knees, "It's okay- I can get up-"</p><p>"Nope. Don't even think about it," Dean shook his head, easing his brother firmly back into the ground. Sam fought him weakly for about .3 seconds and then gave up, still trying to get his breathing back to normal, blinking like he was seeing spots, which the kid probably was. A hit like that shakes you up, makes you dazed...Sam's head was likely spinning so there was no way Dean was letting him stand for at least the next thirty seconds. </p><p>The ref suddenly walked over and leaned forward, asking with a modicum of concern, "Is he okay?"</p><p>Dean's eyes flashed as he looked up from where he was holding the kid and he snarled over his shoulder, "Yeah, for being <em>decked</em>. Didn't realize we were playing rugby." The ref frowned, about to respond but Dean wasn't done. "He got a red, right?" Dean demanded. "That kid who thinks he's a defensive linemen?"</p><p>"No," the ref started, attempting to explain that he gave the boy a warning because it was the last game and this was all about fun- </p><p>"Fun?" Dean exclaimed, eyes widening. "So if I punch you in the face in the name of fun, I won't get a red card either? Because I'll gladly accept that invitation," he swore, about to set Sam down so he could hold true to his word when his brother reached and grabbed his arm. Dean gave the ref one last glare of death, Sam's coach cutting in front of the two Winchester's and leading him away to try and reason with him, pissed that the boy didn't get ejected as well. </p><p>"We can head to the sideline, okay? If you're up for it," Dean offered, starting to loop his brother's arm over his shoulder and ease him to his feet. </p><p>"Dean, I've got to take the free kick," Sam grumbled as he straightened himself with difficulty, gripping Dean's arm as his brother helped him stand, hesitantly putting pressure on his leg. </p><p>"Sam," Dean laughed in amusement, shaking his hand and making firm eye contact. "You're not taking the free kick." </p><p>Sam bent his leg as he rubbed his knee before he pushed a hand to his temple, as if he was testing all the spots that radiated pain and gauging how much more he could take. Dean knew what that meant and his grip on his brother tightened. "No."</p><p>"Dean-"</p><p>"Sammy, I said no."</p><p>Sam looked up at him and his broke as he pleaded, "That was my breakaway, I should have had it. There's only one minute left anyway. If I'm not in and I don't take the free kick, the game is over and we'll tie. I have to do this, please, Dean." Sam squeezed his shoulder, giving him a look that was a mix of puppy eyes and determination.</p><p>Crap. </p><p>Dean nearly cussed out loud. </p><p>The ref suddenly came back over after his talk with Sam's coach and May, who insisted it was a blatant foul. A yellow card was given, but Sam and Dean didn't notice, too busy arguing with each other, Dean trying to talk Sam out of doing the free kick when a second ago he was barely capable of breathing. They were interrupted by the clearing of the ref's throat, and he addressed Sam hesitantly, wary of the older Winchester who was glaring at him. "We need to resume the game."</p><p>Sam turned to face the man and announced, "I'm taking the free kick."</p><p>The ref hesitated, and Dean immediately snapped, "If you're not even giving him a free kick, I swear to God, you will be coughing up turf for the next-"</p><p>"Dean."</p><p>The ref gave Dean a warning glare and looked back at Sam, nodding and handing him the ball. "Would you mind telling your brother to get off the field?" he sniffed, looking at the older Winchester with distaste. He didn't even want to talk to Dean.</p><p>"Don't worry, I know the rules. Unlike you," the older boy winked, turning his back on him and bending down in front of Sam. "You sure you're good to do this?"</p><p>Sam nodded weakly, looking like he was about to collapse. His voice was strong though, and Dean saw trust in his eyes when he croaked, "Yeah....yeah, I got it."</p><p>"You promise me?"</p><p>"I promise. Go."</p><p>"Will you get the car running if I decide to commit assault? The fine gentlemen behind me is practically asking for it-"</p><p>"No."</p><p>"What about punching a minor? Is that a felony? Where's number sevent-"</p><p>"Yeah, you'd go to jail."</p><p>"Darn."</p><p>"Sir, you have to get off the field," the ref sighed, leaning forward and tapping Dean on the shoulder, which was a bad idea. </p><p>Dean turned after ruffling Sam's hair and giving him a firm nod, throwing on a cocky smile. He laughed without humor and announced, "Just to let you know, sir," he told the man honestly, "if you weren't blind, I'd punch you."</p><p>"I'm not-" the ref started before he realized what Dean was getting at and his hand went to his whistle as if that was going to scare the older Winchester off the field.</p><p>Dean gave him a sarcastic smile and dropped the grin as he walked by, sticking his middle finger up behind him, tucking his hand back into his pocket when the ref whipped around. Sam was snickering, and that put a smile on Dean's face as he sauntered back to the sideline. Dean picked up his chair and sank down in it, leaning forward and clasping his hands. </p><p>His little brother nodded to the ref who blew the whistle and then went to check on the goalie. Sam set the ball down in the center of the line and limped backward, wiping his sweaty bangs from his eyes and looking at the goalie who gave a thumbs up to the ref and put his arms out to appear bigger. The boy in front of the net shifted, eyes narrowed. Sam backed up a few feet and then took one step to the side where he dug his cleat into the ground and exhaled slowly, focusing his gaze. </p><p>The ref blew the whistle and the field became quiet, even the wind pausing to watch. Sam froze and looked behind him suddenly, making immediate eye contact with Dean. The older Winchester gave him a nod and a smirk. </p><p>Sam turned with a knowing smile and launched himself forward, his foot connecting with the ball for all he was worth. Turf sprayed as it lifted and sailed for the right corner of the net. </p>
<hr/><p>"Did you see that shot?" Sam said happily, hopping on his good leg and stumbling when he brought his weight down on the other one. </p><p>He fell into Dean who snickered, grabbing his collar and setting him straight before placing a hand on his shoulder to make sure he didn't trip again, "Of course I did, Sammy. Now chill out before you hurt yourself again, idiot."</p><p>The game had ended about fifteen minutes ago, chaos ensuing the minute Sam's ball had hit the net and arced into the back of the goal. That had been game, time running out a minute later, the opposing team having no way of recovering. A massive heap of green jerseys had appeared on the field, cheering roaring from the sidelines, smiles all around. Except on the loser's faces of course.</p><p>It had all finally calmed, after speeches were made and trophies were handed out. Sam had yet to stop smiling. Now they were able to walk back to the car, Sam's soccer bag over Dean's shoulder, chair and jacket clutched under his other arm. </p><p>"It was in the top right corner too!" the boy grinned to his older sibling. "And usually I don't ever hit an upper 90. You're supposed to aim low, because if you go high you have a greater chance of missing."</p><p>Dean almost blurted out <em>that's what she said</em> but decided to hold it back and let Sam have his moment.</p><p>"Did you see how everybody rushed onto the field, too! I almost felt bad for the goalie," Sam admitted with compassion. But it was short lived; then the young Winchester held up his trophy, eyes gleaming as he stared at it in pride.</p><p>Dean chuckled, turning as a screaming kid ran up to Sam. It was Tommy, who Dean had met him a couple minutes earlier, and he and Sam started talking about the game, yelling about their favorite moments and complimenting each other's playing. Dean stepped back, shaking his head before he caught May's eye. She was walking down the other path and Dean glanced at Sam who was yelling with his friend.</p><p>He dropped the chair, jacket, and bag by Sam's side with a quick, "Watch the stuff, Sammy. Stay there." Sam waved him off and Dean turned and jogged a couple feet to meet the girl who had slowed her step to wait for him. </p><p>"Hey pro," she greeted him with a smile. "Your brother should be proud of himself, his penalty was great. Tell him for me."  </p><p>"I will," Dean grinned, "thanks. And thanks for sticking your neck out for him too... you know, with the card," he said with appreciation. One of the parents had described the scene during the huddle, and Dean had smiled at May from across the field but never officially got to thank her until now.</p><p>She shook her head and admitted, "I wish I could have done more. Some of these older refs need to go. Eventually I'm gonna be the one calling the shots, then you won't have a problem."</p><p>"Well you've got my vote," Dean assured her.</p><p>She smiled, taking a sip from her water bottle before asking, "So...lunch today?"</p><p>Dean looked over his shoulder at his ecstatic brother and sighed, admitting, "I can't today. Tomorrow though, probably. That work?"</p><p>"That works for me. Here, I wrote down my number," she told him, tossing him a folded piece of paper which Dean caught and slipped into his pocket. "And then maybe we can go to a field and I'll teach you how to penalty kick," she offered, her eyes showing she was teasing. </p><p>Dean gasped in mock offense, protesting, "I know how to kick!"</p><p>"Yeah, okay," she told him with a raised eyebrow, patting him on the shoulder as she walked off to the parking lot, waving behind her. "See you tomorrow, Dean."</p><p>"Absolutely," Dean called with a grin, looking at the folded up paper with a smirk before turning around to face his brother. He's walking back to where Sam and Tommy are talking, more casually now, the energy lowered, when he sees a group from the other team staring. One kid- that same <em>freaking </em>kid, is glaring at Sam's back and he suddenly shoves the water bottle into his buddies hands and storms forward with curled fists. </p><p>Dean's faster and it takes him about five strides to cut him off, the younger kid crashing into the older Winchester who planted himself in front. The idiot stumbled back, looking up in shock.</p><p>"Hey, kid." Dean asked sweetly through gritted teeth. "Whatcha doing?"  </p><p>"Just- I- nothing," the boy mumbled, recognizing the older boy who was glaring at him almost immediately. He paled and took a step back, realizing what he had just gotten himself into.</p><p>Dean nodded as he crossed his arms, "Good choice." He darkened his gaze and hissed, "Stay the hell away from brother, you got that?" The boy's eyes widened and he gulped, taking another step backward. Dean raised an eyebrow, waiting for a response. </p><p>"G-got it," the boy whispered, about to turn on his heel, but suddenly his three friends were flanking him. </p><p>They all wore hesitant frowns, but one of them was more stupid then the rest and he had the nerve to raise his chin and announce firmly, "There's four of us and one of you."</p><p>Dean chuckled and bent down, hands on his knees, right in front of him, staring without blinking, "There's no universe where those numbers work out in your favor. And if I remember correctly, you were the one who elbowed my brother in the face. So unless you want my elbow in <em>your</em> face, which will hurt a lot more, I promise you that, I suggest you turn around and walk away. And don't make me ask twice."</p><p>The boy looked for any indication that Dean was joking and the older Winchester gave him none. The boy stepped back and Dean straightened with a fake smile as they all started walking away, mumbling curses over their shoulder. </p><p>Someone appeared next to him and Sam looked up at him, shoving his side gently and asking, "What did they want?"</p><p>"Wanted to congratulate you on a good game," Dean said with a sigh, turning around with a hand on Sam's shoulder. </p><p>The boy frowned, asking, "Really?"</p><p>"No, idiot. They were gonna wipe the floor with you," Dean snickered, looking over at his younger brother as they walked back to their stuff.</p><p>Sam grinned sheepishly, looking down at the ground. He knew he didn't have to thank Dean for that; he never did. His older brother automatically stuck up for him, a trait perfected by millions of different schools they had been forced to attend for a week at a time.</p><p>"Can you breathe through your nose?" Dean asked suddenly, a result of watching him rub it in discomfort. </p><p>"Yeah," Sam said as he wrinkled it. "Just sore. Same with my knee. And head. And hands. And chest."</p><p>"But not dying?" Dean clarified. </p><p>"Not dying," Sam agreed.</p><p>Tommy was further down the path and his parents waved to Dean who gave them a nod back. He picked the chair jacket, and Sam's soccer bag, slinging them onto his shoulder about to turn for the path to the street-</p><p>Sam suddenly was hugging him, arms wrapped tightly around his waist. </p><p>Dean is startled and looked down at the kid, rolling his eyes, "Alright, Sammy. No chick flick moments." Dean ruffles his hair and straightens his shirt as Sam pulls away. Then Sam's knee buckles as he takes a step, the young boy wincing in pain and Dean snatches hold of his jersey, holding him upright and clutching his shoulder.</p><p>"Sam? Hey," Concerned, Dean dips for eye contact with the kid whose chin had dropped to his chest. </p><p>But when Sam raises his head, the young Winchester is giggling and he snickers in typical Dean Winchester fashion, "No chick flick moments."</p><p>"You lying bastard," Dean mutters, shoving his head lightly. "You can carry your own bag," he scoffs, realizing he's been played. Sam catches his soccer bag Dean dumped in his arms with a laugh, and the older Winchester would have shoved him if he knew that Sam wasn't still hurting from that foul. They walk back to the car, arguing about something stupid, before they shove their stuff in the backseat, Sam sliding into the passenger's side. </p><p>Dean slips into the front seat and turns the car over, straightening the mirror. He looks over at Sam who proudly holds his trophy in his hands after he clicks in his seatbelt. Reaching, he squeezes Sam's shoulder as he reverses out of the parking spot, offering, "Hey, you want to pick the music?"</p><p>"Yeah!" Sam shouts in glee; he never got to pick the music. Driver picks the music. Shotgun shuts his cakehole. Those were the rules. </p><p>"Too bad," Dean grins, getting him back for the stunt Sam had just pulled. His younger brother groans but knows he deserved it and Dean laughs, spinning the wheel as he takes his eyes off the road for a second and searches for a tape.</p><p>"Dean, can we get ice cream?" Sam asked a second later, pleading with big eyes.</p><p>Dean scoffs and looks over at him, "After you were so rude to me? My feelings are devastated Sam, I don't know if I'll ever recover."</p><p>"Then maybe ice cream will help," Sam suggests innocently.</p><p>Dean breaks into a smile, "Can't argue with that." His grin is an answer in and of itself and Sam takes his victory, sinking down into his seat in triumph. Dean slides in a cassette tape and 'Living On A Prayer' by Bon Jovi starts blasting through the speakers. He turns just in time to see his little brother's face light up; Sam loved this song. Dean cranks up the volume with a smile as they drive for the nearest ice cream place, which Dean had already planned on stopping at even before Sam asked.</p>
<hr/><p>Dean got chocolate, Sam got peanut butter and chocolate chip, the young Winchester jogging down the steps and claiming the nearest park bench that was on the side of the building complex they had parked in. Dean slid onto the wooden seat across from his brother, licking the side of the cup. They knew they had to get back to the motel; they had already been gone for about three hours, but there was no way Dean was about to let his messy little brother eat the ice cream that was spilling over the sides of the cup in his car. </p><p>They decided to eat until it sank down to a level Dean deemed Impala suitable, and then they would leave. It was a nice day, and they were in the shade so the sun wasn't that bad, which was also fortunate for both their ice cream.</p><p>Sam wiped his mouth, content, before he looked up nervously and said, "So what happened with dad?"</p><p>Dean tensed a bit and he didn't raise his gaze. He spoke very simply, trying to sound carefree, "I told you, Sammy. I just said I was coming to the game and that he could hunt by himself. That's it."</p><p>"Was he mad at you?" Sam asked quietly, his spoon stilling in the ice cream. </p><p>Now Dean looked up and he met Sam's eyes, knowing what he was getting at. He shook his head, "This isn't your fault, Sam."</p><p>"So he <em>was</em> mad at you," Sam huffed, eating a spoonful sadly before letting it sink into the ice cream. </p><p>"I mean, the man wasn't thrilled," Dean said with a halfhearted laugh, his brother's shoulder's sinking lower. "Sam," he said with a reassuring smile, waiting until the young Winchester looked up at him. "Dad and I will be fine. Just eat your ice cream."</p><p>Sam obeyed, taking another spoonful but once he swallowed he mumbled, "I just don't want him mad at you for coming, that's all." </p><p>"I know," Dean told him, scraping the sides of his plastic cup as he finished it off to the very last melted drop. He wiped his hands and let out an exaggerated sigh. "Dang, that was good. You better finish yours or I'm coming for it," he told his younger brother in efforts to stop his pouting.</p><p>Sam cracked a smile and pulled his cup closer, warning, "Don't you dare."</p><p>"What kind did you get anyway?" Dean asked, leaning over. </p><p>Sam naively pushed it forward to show him, "Peanut butter and ch-" Dean cackled and swiped with his spoon, getting a good amount of it before Sam snatched his cup away with a protesting yelp, "HEY!"</p><p>"What, you want it back?" Dean offered through a mouth full, raising a daring eyebrow. </p><p>"You're gross," Sam told him, sheltering his ice cream before Dean patted the table and cocked his head towards the car. Sam got up with his brother, staring to walk back, holding the ice cream as far away from him as he could, Dean reaching for it just to make him complain every couple of seconds. </p>
<hr/><p>The ice cream wasn't done by the time they got to the motel because whenever there was a red light it became a wrestling match to get the cup, Dean's foot firmly on the brake even as he reached with the plastic spoon he had kept for this very reason. </p><p>Both Winchester's were laughing as they got out of the car after rolling into the parking spot, Dean grabbing the jacket and chair from the backseat, Sam slipping on his soccer bag so that he could have one hand to hold his ice cream and one hand to proudly hold up his trophy. Neither noticed the rusty old car Bobby had loaned them parked in another spot. </p><p>Dean unlocked the door, the two of them continuing to shout the lyrics to the song they were forced to cut short from the ride, "Dont Stop Believin'" by Journey. He opens the door and Sam jumps inside, forgetting about his bad knee and he hisses, hopping on one foot, still managing to keep up his singing. Dean laughs too, slipping 'idiot' into one of the lyrics before they both stop.</p><p>The singing cuts off, and the door squeaks with abuse at how slowly it's being closed. Their father is sitting at the table, looking at the two of them, and Sam blinks, looking back at Dean who is suddenly fascinated with his shoes. Sam returns his gaze to face his dad as he hears the door shut behind him. The older Winchester  lays his coat over the couch, letting the chair rest against the wall before he steps up beside Sam. </p><p>"I thought you were on a hunt," Dean said stiffly. </p><p>"I told you it was close," John said back, voice indicating no emotion. </p><p>"All settled now?" Dean followed up after a minute, daring to make eye contact. </p><p>"Yep," their father says curtly, having a conversation with his older son through his eyes and Sam doesn't like it because he can't tell what they're saying. </p><p>Sam tries to diffuse the tension that's thickening in the room like fog by holding up his trophy and clearing his throat. "You told me to bring one home," he reminded him. Originally he had meant to say it with anger, still furious at his dad for what he did, ditching him like that, but it comes out with a different tone, one that is searching for approval. "So I did," he adds.</p><p>John breaks into a smile and it seems genuine and he nods with a low chuckle, agreeing "Yes, you did, let me see that." </p><p>Sam forgets his anger with his father for a second and he grins and walks over to hand it to him, Dean's shoulders relaxing. John put a hand on Sam's shoulder as he admired it, the previous persona fading away as he turns, asking about the game and how he played, what the score was, why his knee was all ripped up-</p><p>"I got flipped but I kept going, like you always say too dad, didn't I, Dean?" Sam asked his brother with a smile. </p><p>Dean couldn't help but return the grin as he nodded, "You should have seen him dad, he played great."</p><p>Crap. He hadn't meant to remind his dad that he wasn't there, he had just used an expression, but John sure took it the wrong way and shot him a look, Dean straightening with a wince. Sam missed the exchange as he whooped and described his fancy footwork in weaving around the opponents and John tore his gaze of anger away from his oldest to look at the younger boy. Sam went through every detail from the beginning of the game until the last ten minutes, John not stopping him once, just watching him in wonder and was that...pain? Was he regretting not going? No. He would never admit that. Not as long as Dean had disobeyed an order at least. His pride would be wounded, and John Winchester cared about that. </p><p>"-and then he came out of nowhere and just knocked me off my feet," Sam was saying, snapping the older boy out of his thoughts, "and I couldn't breathe but Dean was there," he glanced back at his older brother with a smile, "the ref almost launched him off the field-"</p><p>"Oh really?" John said with a hint of amusement. </p><p>"Yeah, and he was yelling from the sidelines because everyone was trying to knock me over because I made them look stupid. It was easy though because if you fake one way, then they widen their stride and you can just knock the ball in between their legs," Sam explained energetically. "I must have gotten fouled like ten times but I still won the game. My kick was right in the upper 90, the goalie didn't have a chance." Sam was finally done, or at least he paused to allow his father to respond, hope filling his gaze, and Dean prayed his father said the right thing. </p><p>He did. </p><p>"I'm proud of you, Sam," John told him with a smile, cupping his cheek. Sam looked up at the touch and straightened, his lip curling. Dean straightened too, just not for the same reason. The last time John told Dean he was proud of him was when he hit 8 cans in a row from 15 yards away, that time when he had taken him shooting. Dean was 10.</p><p>"Thanks, dad," Sam said quietly. His father put the trophy in the center of the table and stared at it with sparkling eyes.</p><p>Then he clapped Sam on the shoulder, "Why don't you put away your stuff and get changed and then we'll get some dinner, huh?"</p><p>"Okay," Sam said in agreement, setting down the empty cup of ice cream on the table sprinting for the room he and Dean shared, soccer bag flying from his shoulder. He soon realized he couldn't run on his bad knee and settled for a hopping limp. </p><p>His older brother shifted awkwardly between his feet, standing in front of his father. "Dad I-" he started but then John picked up the empty cup that Sam had left and raised an eyebrow. "Ice cream," Dean explained. "I just got him ice cream. He gave the puppy eyes, you know? I used the rest of the diner money though, not the money for supplies. I have the rest of that change." He dug the money out of his pocket that he had kept safe since the morning and he handed it back to his dad who took it in his palm. </p><p>"You disobeyed a direct order Dean," John said quietly after he set the money down on the table. </p><p>"And I'd do it again," Dean told his dad firmly. "Sam played amazing, dad. You <em>should</em> have been there to watch him," he insisted, purposefully this time. "One of the refs, she told me that he could make it onto a high school team! And maybe even college!"</p><p>"That's not gonna happen," John scoffed. "It's not possible with what we do."</p><p>"What <em>you</em> do. What <em>I</em> do," Dean corrected with a shake of his head. "What about Sam? You ever ask him what he wants to do?" Dean asked his dad, pointing towards the room that had the door shut. </p><p>John lowered his voice, "We're not having that conversation, Dean." He stood up and took a step forward with a serious gaze, "Right now, it's about you, going against what I-"</p><p>"No, this is about you, not going to your son's game, and me, stepping up," Dean hissed back, meeting his father in the middle of the room. "He was smiling, dad," Dean said with a slight chuckle, "He was happy. I haven't seen him that happy in a long time."</p><p>"And I'm happy for him, I'm not happy with my son who hung up on me, talked back, practically told me off. It's unacceptable," John swore, using his height to his advantage as he squared up against his younger son. </p><p>Dean took a step back, about to retort before the door opened down the hall and Sam came limping out, heading for their father. John and Dean both watched as he crossed the room with a smile, both of them wondering what he was-</p><p>Sam wrapped his arms around him suddenly, and Dean frowned, feeling a bit betrayed. Their father looked down in shock at the boy around his waist and suddenly Sam spoke, muffled by his jacket, "You let Dean come, didn't you?"</p><p>That little genius. Dean tried to hide his proud smile as he kept a straight face, admiring how smart and cunning his little brother was. Sam knew exactly what happened, Dean had talked to him about it, and even if he hadn't, the younger boy would have figured it out. But John didn't know Sam as well as Dean did. And he wasn't there for the conservation. </p><p>The youngest Winchester hugged him tighter and whispered, "Thanks, dad."</p><p>Well that was the nail in the coffin, and Dean looked up at John, suppressing a smirk, waiting for his response. His father was now caught in a tight spot. Of course he hadn't let Dean come, but Sam was pretending he didn't know that. </p><p>Say no, and Sam would pull away, an expression full of hurt, the anger that he had felt when John walked out of his room with the duffel resurfacing worse than the first time, and Sam would be devastated. John had never been happy about missing the game, and the kid was playing off his emotions. It was idiotic to now deny that he had let Dean come if Sam already assumed it, especially after the hug and the thank you too- Sam was smart enough not to even let him answer the question, instead making John think his son believed he was a good man. Contradicting him now would paint himself in a worse light and would basically mean, no, I don't care about you at all. He would have to repair relations with his youngest which were never that good to begin with, and they would be in for a rough night. </p><p>On the other hand, and this is why Sam was genius, say yes, and everything would be fixed. He would be the good guy, who saved the day in the end, and made his kid happy. There was only one catch, which was why Sam did it. If he said yes, John would have no reason to be mad at Dean according to his own testimony, so he would be forced to cut the budding argument short and never talk about it again.</p><p>Sam had offered him a golden way out, and the man would be a fool not to take it. </p><p>John Winchester was no fool, at least not right now. </p><p>"No problem kiddo, I'm sorry I couldn't come," John said, ruffling Sam's hair with a sigh, giving a glance at Dean, nodding that the argument was in the past, even if it was against his will. Dean nodded back, and that was that.</p><p>Sam pulled away with an innocent smile, before he faced Dean and suddenly smirked, his knee buckling. Dean was at his side in an instant, faster than John even though he was further away. Their dad stopped in his tracks and took a step back as Dean helped his brother to his feet, Sam's expression crumpling as he grabbed his knee and winced to his older sibling, "It's the turf burn. Can you-" He gripped Dean's jacket and let out an annoyed groan of pain.</p><p>John shifted his feet awkwardly by the table, realizing he was not needed. </p><p>"Yeah, I'll get the first aid kit," Dean assured the boy gently, still managing to keep his mouth a thin line as he helped limp to the bathroom. </p><p>"I'm gonna order something while you get him cleaned up," John said loudly, like he desperately wants to be involved. Dean nodded over his shoulder. </p><p>The older son closed the door to the bathroom behind them and now that he was in the clear, Sam walked normally with a mischievous smile, sitting down on the edge of the tub. Dean turned around to face his younger sibling with a grin and Sam nearly burst out laughing, clapping a hand over his mouth as Dean widened his eyes and put a finger to his lips. The boy's face was red as he held his breath, overjoyed that he had succeeded in getting away with the stunt he had just pulled.</p><p>"You're impossible," Dean said with a chuckle, grabbing the first aid kit from the top shelf. There was a small thud and shudder to the motel room, the living room quiet all of a sudden. The two boys waited a couple seconds before they just scrambled to the bathroom door, peeking out into the hallway, make sure the Impala's keys were gone and that their father had truly left.</p><p>Realizing he had gone, and hearing the low rumble of their car pulling out of the parking lot, Dean turned back to Sam who had poked his head out under his arm and laughed in disbelief, "Wow, Sam. Lying to dad now?"</p><p>"I never <em>technically</em> lied," Sam drawled with a smirk, sauntering back over with only a slight limp, sinking back down onto the edge of the tub.</p><p>Dean was impressed and he laughed, admitting, "You should be a lawyer." Sam grinned and then the older Winchester gestured to his knee with a raised eyebrow. He held up the first aid kit and asked, "So was that all faked too or are you actually dying?"</p><p>"It hurts," Sam made a face and shrugged, "but not too bad." </p><p>Dean popped open the kit with a nod and put the seat down on the toilet so he could sit on it and inspect the long burn on Sam's knee. Taking out an alcohol wipe, he nodded at his younger brother, getting his attention. His voice was sincere and quiet and he said, "Thanks Sammy."</p><p>Sam's gave him a small smile before he widened his eyes and asked, "Did you just thank me?"</p><p>Dean rolled his eyes and shook his head, "Shut up."</p><p>"You did!"</p><p>"You have a concussion or something. You heard wrong."</p><p>"You said thank you!"</p><p>"Shut up," the older Winchester groaned as his brother laughed, Dean getting revenge by pressing the alcohol wipe on the burn. </p><p>"Ow!" Sam groaned in annoyance, the grip he had mockingly placed on his brother's shoulder tightening. </p><p>"You deserved it."</p><p>"I did not."</p><p>"Did too."</p><p>Pause.</p><p>"You're welcome."</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>How was itttttt- added a little John (pukes) in there for y’all. Gotta hate the guy :))))<br/>The last time I did a weechester chapter was like wayyyyyy wayyy back and it was a flashback too so it wasn’t that long so I am rusty I’m sorry! I tried my best to make it in character I write them better when they’re older teehee WHICH WE WILL GET BACK TO NEXT CHAPTER<br/>I’m very excited for this next one like super excited haha<br/>Anyway hope y’all are doing well! Stay safe and healthy!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Happy Vacation Part 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>IGHT HEY AWESOME READERS IM BACK<br/>so this was gonna be one big thing and then i was like eh no we'll make it 2 parts so heres one<br/>I got cold after reading this XD it was a lot of fun to write tho haha so i hope you like ittt<br/>hope yall are having a great day and dealing with school and life and everything<br/>Im gonna go make coffee :)<br/>Enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The trees swayed with creaks and groans, lining the single gravel road that stretched for miles, weaving deeper and deeper into the woods. Then there's the low rumble of the engine that disturbed the silence of nature but is somehow calming all the same. It's the dominant sound that rivals even the harsh wind as it grows louder, a car appearing, making it's way over the hill and down the road. The headlights are bright, and it's frame is gently coated with rain from a previous storm. The grass and gravel where it's now traveling are damp and cold, but it's warm inside the car which has two brothers, one with a serious look on his face as he inspects a map, the other drumming and humming along to Blue Oyster Cult.</p><p>"You sure we're going the right way?"</p><p>"Yes, Sam, for the millionth time. Now stop asking," Dean sighed in annoyance as the Impala bumped over the long gravel road, sliding his wheel to the side as they navigated through the twists and turns. He turned up the music a little more just in case Sam wanted to butt in again. They were in Wisconsin, more specifically, Richard County, somewhere neither of them had never heard of. That was probably because it <em>was</em> the middle of nowhere; they hadn't seen a single thing except woods for a very, very long time.</p><p>Sam had a massive display of paper unfolded on his lap and he was following a road with his finger and sharpie, shaking his head, "I'm just saying, because on the map-"</p><p>"Welcome to the 21st century, my brother, where we use a cool thing called a GPS," Dean smirked, pointing to his phone which had the blue line and arrow, looking over at the younger Winchester who rolled his eyes.</p><p>"Yeah, and if the satellites aren't updated because a road you're taking hasn't been used in a long time, the magical GPS can be wrong," Sam grumbled in retaliation, shifting in his seat and stubbornly staring at the map, taking a couple glances at Dean's phone that was propped up on the dash.</p><p>"Whatever," Dean muttered, squinting from the sun as he looked out the window. He took another left, the car suddenly hitting an unavoidable pothole and lurching forward, the coffee thermos in the cup holder rattling. "Sorry baby," he said, rubbing the wheel with affection. The car had taken a while to warm up because of how cold it had been, and had been forced to endure pouring rain that nearly turned into snow from the freezing temperatures, plus the past twenty minutes of uneven road. The engine hummed steadily in response and Dean gave her a gentle smile.</p><p>
  <em>"Turn right, then continue straight."</em>
</p><p>"Okay, Dean, seriously-" Sam said, the map crinkling as he raised his palms in protest.</p><p>"The GPS lady knows where she's going!" Dean responded, shooting him a look as he turned right and then immediately let out a curse as he slammed on the brake, both of them lurching forward. Dean cranked down the radio; it was hard to be shocked while listening to Blue Oyster Cult's Fire of Unknown Origin. The brothers stared straight ahead in disbelief before leaning forward to peek further over the dash in unison. "What the-" Dean muttered. </p><p>
  <em>"Continue straight."</em>
</p><p>"Is she trying to kill us?" Sam swore at the GPS. </p><p>"It's like that episode of The Office," Dean grumbled, ripping his phone down from the dash, pressing the reroute button rapidly. He got a small error message in response. <strong>No available alternate routes.</strong> </p><p>"We went the wrong way," Sam concluded firmly, reverting back to his original statement in triumph, holding up the map with a grin.</p><p>Dean smacked the large paper down without looking and stubbornly mumbled, "No we didn't."</p><p>"Then where's the road, Dean?" Sam asked with a fake smile and a raised eyebrow, pointing at what they could see through the windshield. </p><p>Dean shut off his phone and shoved it back into his jeans, taking off his seatbelt too, all while glaring at Sam and stuttering, "It's- it clearly was there it- it's just not there anymore- shut up."</p><p>He put the Impala in park before stowing the keys in his pocket, opening the door and getting a nice freezing gust of wind that disturbed the warm air of the car. Dean let out a sound of discomfort as he eased himself to his feet, opening the door all the way, his brother following suite from the passengers side. </p><p>They closed their doors and Sam shivered from the harsh wind, tightening his coat around himself as they walked the distance to where the road dropped off. There had been a bridge, but the middle was nonexistent. The bridge jutted out and then crumbled forward in a steep slant of broken rock and the boys inched closer to the edge, glancing down. It looked barely safe enough for them to climb down and cross. </p><p>Dean kicked a pebble over the side while making a face and it soared down the drop, landing at the bottom after a handful of bounces off of bigger stones. There was no water, only a small bit of bridge before the slanted mess of rocks. A dry cracked blanket of middle ground stretched about 20 yards before the ruin of the other side of the bridge began. After a quick assertion, the older Winchester concluded they could hike it if necessary, but he really didn't feel like rock climbing at the moment. Maybe they could go another-</p><p>As if reading his mind, Sam announced glumly, "And this is the only road in or out of here for another hour's drive." </p><p>Dean frowned, "How do you know that?"</p><p>"Because the map says so," Sam tells him, before adding, "not the GPS, which already tried to drive us off a cliff."</p><p>"It's not a cliff," Dean huffs as he steps away from the edge and puts his hands in his pockets, hunching his shoulders to try and stop the cold air from getting in his relatively warm jacket. "It's just- a bridge in progress."</p><p>"Bridge in progress-" Sam repeats in exasperation, rubbing his forehead before he also returns his hands to his pockets. The younger Winchester raises himself onto his toes before shifting back to his heels, announcing grimly, "Well looks like we're going down the on foot." </p><p>"And the hits just keep on coming," Dean shakes his head as they retreat back to the Impala, sliding into their seats. He turned the car back on, both of them grateful for the heat, the soft radio starting up again with the same song they had been listening to. Dean rubbed his hands together before twirling his finger in a circle. "Game plan first, then we'll go. Give it a whirl."</p><p>"Hikers got lost a couple years ago a county over. Wildlife services went to check it out after a week and found an abandoned campsite. No bodies. Went down as a grizzly kill. Week later, hunter shows up and ganks a Wendigo. He was too late, they were hung up dead," Sam told him with a slight wince. </p><p>"Gotcha."</p><p>"Same thing just happened a day and a half ago except in these woods. Same circumstances, people went off the radar. We got a tip from someone who's got a friend in this town, the police aren't gonna look for them for another week because that's when they're due back. So everything points to-"</p><p>"Another Wendigo," Dean nodded, scratching the back of his head.</p><p>"Yeah," Sam exhaled, biting the inside of his cheek and folding up his map, palming it.</p><p>"Okay, well, our work is cut out for us then. Flare guns and fire, we're gonna light this sucker up," Dean said, groaning as he went to open the door, patting Baby's dash as he turned the car off for good. "It better not get colder," he muttered.</p><p>"Hear, hear," Sam agreed, closing his door and meeting Dean by the trunk as his older hunter unlocked it.</p><p>Dean reached and pulled up the cover after opening the trunk, picking up the shotgun and resting it against the side to prop it. He hands Sam his backpack and heavier coat which his brother takes with a nod thanks, shoving it on over his lighter jacket before stuffing the remainder of the supplies they needed in his bag- and some extra weapons in case it wasn't a Wendigo. Dean does the same, slinging his pack over his shoulder after a minute. Sam tucked the map into his jean pocket and Dean slipped a gun into his waistband just in case. "I've got the location. There's some cabins about seven miles that way, so we should be able to make it there before the sun goes down."</p><p>Sam reached and firmly shut the trunk, Dean locking it. "You put in flare guns? I've got lighter fluid."</p><p>"One gun in each, shoved three extra rounds each in the packs and I've got my Zippo," Dean said triumphantly before he patted Baby's hood. "Take care girl, we'll be back soon." They started for the edge, finding a place where it dropped off into somewhat of an even platform. One rock had footholds that looked to be relatively safe and both brothers stared at it.</p><p>Dean put out his fist, looking over the edge. Sam did as well, the two of them still staring straight ahead. They pounded their fists three times in mid air and Dean threw scissors vehemently. Sam sloppily stuck with rock and Dean cursed loudly, Sam patting him on the back as he started forward. "Have fun, buddy, I'm right behind you," the young Winchester snorted, his older brother shoving past him with a low grumble about how dumb that game was. </p><p>Sam rolled his eyes and watched as Dean eased himself carefully down the side of the bridge. The older hunter tested his weight on the first rock, which held. Dean grinned in triumph, sticking as close to the side as he could, hating how the small pebbles would slide off the edge with every step. "You coming, Sam?" he called behind him, easing himself down onto the next rock and looking over his shoulder at his brother. </p><p>"Just giving you a head start," Sam responded as he followed his brother's lead in sliding down to the first rock, the two of them slowly making it to the bottom.</p>
<hr/><p>Baby sat idle in the center of the gravel road, the sleek, black Impala glowing in the sun that tried to escape out from behind the clouds. It's warmth from it's rays didn't really reach the car though, only the light. She was practically shivering as she sat in the gravel. The wind was harsh and cruel, and leaves were sent tumbling against her, whisking around her ties. One got stuck in the windshield wiper, flapping violently as it held on for a couple seconds before it was flung away into the air, spiraling out of sight. Inside the Impala, the air was slightly warm, but it had lost it's coziness, empty and quiet.</p><p>The boys had just gotten out of the car, Dean twisting the keys to shut the car down. But had they stayed a second later they would have heard the radio station cut off, and the host would suddenly apologize for the interruption.</p><p>
  <em>"Fire of unknown origin, took my baby away-"</em>
</p><p>
  <em>- Sorry to disrupt folks, but this is an important announcement. Weather alert for this area. Yeah, you heard me right. There's another storm forming, heading for Winoka County, Sian County, and Richard County. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>- I swear Mark, we all thought that rain today was the end of it but apparently not. I checked the weather maybe an hour ago, it said clear skies and sun!</em>
</p><p>
  <em>- Yeah, apparently not, Bill.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>- And this is not your typical snow storm, this may be the biggest blizzard of the year. Can you believe that? We may be snowed in here at the studio today.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>- Ha, let's hope we can get out before it hits, it looks like we've got one hour so if you plan on traveling or driving anywhere maybe hold off. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>- Came out of the blue, too, crazy... So take this one seriously for everyone listening, stay inside, hunker down, because this storm did not feel like warning us and it's gonna be a nasty one.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>- Now back to the music, stay safe everyone. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Death comes sweeping through the hallway-"</em>
</p><p>The boys had just left the car, the trunk closed not even a minute earlier, and right now they were feet away. Yet the Impala lay idle, drowning in silence. And the Winchesters started forward and headed down the side of the broken bridge. </p>
<hr/><p>They had trekked across the middle of the bridge, and up the other side- that had been harder than going down, but with a bit of brother banter, time passed quickly. </p><p>"You're so slow, hurry up," Sam groaned from below him, pulling himself up onto the next ledge after Dean made it to another foothold.</p><p>"Sam, you know you can go around me, right? There's no perfect way of doing this, but oh wait," Dean grinned cockily as he peered up at the remaining cliff from where he was standing and crackled his knuckles, blowing on his cold fingers, "I'm an awesome big brother, so you want to do everything like me."</p><p>"Yeah, you tell yourself that," Sam grumbled from below him, shaking out his aching hands. </p><p>"You also could have easily gone first, I gave you the option."</p><p>"Oh, so it's my fault."</p><p>"Yes."</p><p>"Whatever."</p><p>"You were always bad at rock climbing as a kid," Dean admitted. He chuckled lightly and called over his shoulder, "You always fell, remember that?"</p><p>"You want to tell me that now?" Sam snarled in disbelief, gripping each rock tighter subconsciously. "Real confidence booster thank you," he drawled sarcastically. "And I didn't think I was that bad." </p><p>"Well, you sucked, I remember," Dean told him, adding, "Even with the harness to catch you. Now you don't have a harness so..." the older Winchester winked behind him, "hands and feet."</p><p>"One more word, Dean," his younger sibling grumbled, pulling himself up onto the next ledge and leaning forward into the crumpled remains of the bridge to catch his breath, "and I'll yank you off the side of that rock, I swear."</p><p>"You <em>should</em> have gone in front of me so I could keep an eye on you, I don't like you being able to threaten me," Dean decided, going a little faster at the thought.</p><p>"I think you're scared of heights so you're teasing me to distract yourself. Continue, I don't mind," Sam shot back with a grin as he steadied himself after readjusting his footing, reaching to grab a better hold above him, waiting for Dean to move so he could continue up the side of the rock. </p><p>Dean stopped just for that so Sam had to stay in an uncomfortable position mid-climb. He waited with a growing smirk until his little brother yelled, "Oh my <em>God</em>, go, dude!"</p><p>Snickering, Dean resumed climbing and eventually made it to the top, rolling onto solid ground and pumping his fists with his remaining energy. "Yahtzee."</p><p>The younger hunter became visible from the side a minute later, groaning as he eased himself up, army crawling his way onto the road. "I don't need any help, thanks though," he drawled mockingly, collapsing next to his brother and letting out a sigh of exhaustion. </p><p>"You're a big kid now, Sam, you're fine," Dean told him, whacking him in the chest as he rolled over and got to his feet, offering his hand to his younger sibling. "Up and at em."</p><p>"Come on-" Sam groaned due to the fact that Dean got to rest longer than he had. Giving his older brother a look, he slapped the hand away and got to his feet with an exaggerated sigh and a low grumble that was probably an insult, but Dean couldn't hear him.</p><p>They started the hike forward down the gravel path which eventually morphed into dirt. They walked straight, not willing to risk veering off course and cutting corners, Sam pulling out the map and checking the surrounding mountains barely visible between the tall, thick trees whenever needed. Dean had a compass on his watch to keep them straight as well. It had been a tiring hour but not as bad as one would have thought. The brothers had been stuck in hotel rooms together whenever their dad went hunting when they were younger, so they learned to pass the time. Dean had ruined I spy though, not even twenty minutes in.</p><p>"I spy something green."</p><p>"Dean, it could be any of these trees."</p><p>"Exactly. Start guessing."</p><p>"You're impossible."</p><p>The next hour consisted of some typical Winchester conversation, the temperature dropping low enough to be just slightly chilly, even with all the walking they were doing, and they saw their first snowflake. Not thinking much about it, they ignored it, continuing to have their current debate on something trivial (Dean didn't seem to think it was trivial): whipped cream. Then the second snowflake fell, and the third, big ones too, and by the forth, Sam and Dean stopped walking.</p><p>"Sometimes I don't know how I'm related to you."</p><p>"I just don't like whipped cream. That's not a crime-"</p><p>The patch of white fluttered to the ground and dissolved, the Winchesters cocking their heads and frowning as they looked up at the scattered falling snow.</p><p>"I thought the storm was done?" Dean said, glancing to the sky with a craned neck.</p><p>Sam blinked, his eyebrows knitting, "I did too. I checked the weather."</p><p>"So did I," Dean confirmed. He had remembered checking his phone before they headed out- it was the reason they had brought the warm coats. There had been only one storm on the radar and on the forecast predictions, a small thunderstorm, and they had driven through it to get here.</p><p>The snow wasn't steady, but the rate it was falling was reason to be a little concerned. Sam pulled out the map and pointed forward, "We've got a little over two and a half miles left. Four plus if we turn back. We should try and get to the cabins in case this actually does get bad."</p><p>Dean agreed with a nod, still wary of the falling snow and they quickened their pace while they could, a slow jog that started to get faster as the snow fell harder. </p>
<hr/><p>"Bad" was an understatement. As fast as their pace sped up, it slowed down. Neither of them had ever seen a snow storm form this quick. The flakes were huge and wet, clumping together instantly on the ground. The wind had started to pick up, an the temperature continued to drop. The escalation surprised the both of them, and Sam had no choice but to put the map away, not willing to risk losing it in the wind. They had put their hoods up and were trudging through the snow that was now up to their shins, having to pick their feet up higher with every step. The wind was against them, ruthless and cruel, slamming into them full force and squeezing through their coats, sending shivers down their back. Both of their hands were numb, and their vision was getting worse by the second, the path in front of them gone, just a blanket of white, the air circling them a blizzard, making it nearly impossible to see the tree lining, let alone two feet in front of them. </p><p>Sam heard Dean curse loudly at his side as the older hunter ducked his head down to combat with the wind. "We've got to be almost there," Dean turned to scream over the howling and whistling of the storm, holding his hood on his head as the gusts tried to rip it down. There was a pit in his stomach that made him think they were very far from almost there, but he refused to acknowledge it, just like how he refused to acknowledge the pain spreading throughout his body.</p><p>Sam nodded before shouting at his brother who was only two feet away, "Hopefully. You good?"</p><p>"Physically? Cold as hell. Shoes are wet, and I hate wet shoes. But yeah, I'm fine. Mentally? No. I hate this," Dean yelled at him, cupping his gloved hands over his mouth to try and make his voice louder to no avail. "You?"</p><p>Sam snickered without humor, "Awesome."</p><p>He was not snickering ten minutes later, as the path leaned downward, and they were up to their knees in snow. If you've ever walked in snow, you know how hard it is. It's worse than walking through water which is also a struggle. Snow is worse, Sam thought stubbornly, because it sticks to you, especially this snow, which formed around their hiking boots with every step. They had to yank their foot out before even taking their next step, which put all their weight onto the other foot which only succeeded in packing the snow tighter. It was tiring work, especially with the wind unable to decide which direction to blow, the freezing temperatures, and the sheer volume of it all. The younger Winchester could barely even hear himself think. </p><p>They had slowed down tremendously, both dehydrated and weary, stopping when they needed to to take sips from the water they had shoved in the center of the backpack to keep it from freezing. But it had been longer than either one of them had ever been in this weather and Sam stopped for a second and bent down, lowering his head to his chest to block the wind. His breath spiraled in a fury of white clouds in front of him. God, it felt so good to not walk for a second, even if his legs stung from the lack of movement. Sam closed his eyes and took a deep breath, his lungs burning from the freezing air that seemed to crystallize the sides of his throat when he inhaled. His legs were tight and cold, and his face ached from the wind. Suddenly he's hit in the shoulder and he looks up, see's Dean palm against his arm, a big fist full of snow blowing away in the wind when he pulls back.</p><p>"Did you just throw a snowball at me?" Sam demanded loudly, nearly toppling from a gust of wind. He stumbles dangerously.</p><p>The older Winchester's hand lashes out and steadies him, tugging him forward a bit- a sign to keep moving- before he yells over his shoulder, "Technically no, I couldn't throw it because the wind would take it. I kinda just slammed it into your arm."</p><p>"I'm already covered in snow!" Sam splutters, finding irony in the situation. The snow had stuck against their coats but the wind was constantly ripping it off before pouring down a new layer. </p><p>"Woah, really? I didn't notice," Dean drawls sarcastically, pulling him gently forward with encouragment. "We're close. We've got to be."</p><p>"Didn't you say that ten minutes ago?" Sam mutters miserably, following his older sibling. </p><p>"Yeah, ten minutes after you did," Dean counters with a low grunt as he kicks his way through the packed snow. </p><p>The trees narrow into a lane minutes later, to the point where there is no real place to be safe if one of them was to fall or if a branch snapped. It had been a shared concern back when they could actually see the trees, but now they were barely visible the higher they got which made it even more dangerous. The woods thickened around them, their surroundings morphing into a violent mess of swaying hazards, looking like they would tip over any second. The visible branches were waving aggressively, moans heard from the oak as it threatened to snap in half. A heavy pile of snow caught Sam in the head about five minutes later, his hood slipping off as snow poured down his back. No description was needed for how that felt, and the young hunter let out a groan, cursing his luck.</p><p>Dean reacted immediately, lunging for his brother who had crumpled forward, sheltering him in case any more branches decided to let their snow fall before trying to claw out as much of it from his hood and jacket as he could- hard to do with gloves on. Sam looked like he was dazed but his brown eyes focused when Dean yelled his name and his brother helped him to his feet. They ultimately decided that it was better to keep going then stay and freeze while trying to get more snow out of the young Winchester's coat. Sam was the one who insisted this, but he was getting cold with each passing second, shivering, getting a couple of frowns of concern shot in his direction from Dean.</p><p>It's about time that the light at the end of the tunnel makes itself known. Deeper into the woods are sections without trees, just blankets of white snow, and they brought indescribable joy to the Winchesters who let out sighs of relief in small white clouds indistinguishable from the ranging blizzard. Campsites, they realized, cleared areas for tents or campers, which means cabins were close. Close was very good, because the cold had stopped being just annoying about two miles back, now it was life threatening. Hypothermia was a legitimate concern, the only thing keeping them both alive was the fact that they were awake and still walking. </p><p>"Can you feel your hands? Or anything?" Sam asked Dean who was now shoulder to shoulder with him as they trudged along. </p><p>"Nope." At this point they weren't even realizing they were walking; the movement had become so robotic. </p><p>The packs had seemingly gotten heavier too, a massive weight on their backs that threatened to tip both of them over whenever they leaned one way just slightly. Neither Winchester could keep their heads up for more than a couple seconds, the wind whipping harshly at their cheeks, snow swirling in a scattered tornado around them. But more than anything they wished they had earplugs. The sound of the storm was roaring, a combination of the the utter screaming of wind and the cracking of branches and trees. </p><p>Snowflakes were blowing in their faces due to the changing wind, and both of their teeth had stopped chattering which was a really bad sign, gloves soaking wet from the times they tripped and fell, landing painfully in the snow. The first couple of times they had fallen, when the snow had been around their ankles, they had laughed at one another's clumsiness, but by now it wasn't because they were clumsy. It was exhaustion, plus the wind, plus the uneven path beneath all that snow, sometimes giving away underneath them, resulting in a painful trip. The brother still standing would reach, haul them up, and then they'd stumble forward together, gripping the other’s coat tight in their fists for a minute until they knew the other had regained stability.</p><p>"Dean, I-" Sam didn't want to say he was tired, but he was. He was exhausted. He had held onto the confession for a while but he knew he had pretty much admitted it now without even saying the words. He felt sick, his stomach churning, a gross taste of pennies in his mouth. He looked over at his brother, guiltily, and Dean moved closer to him so he could see him through the blizzard of snow. That was when Sam saw the older Winchester's expression which looked just as drained as his, and Dean licked his lips, tired of yelling. </p><p>"Me too, Sammy," Dean assured him with a wince, looping Sam's arm over his shoulder, his younger brother tightening his grip on his arm so he could also help him stagger forward through the snow, giving up on going up and over the knee high mountains and just trying to push their legs forward now. </p><p>"Hey! Check it out!" Dean yelled suddenly with a chuckle that split through the roaring blizzard, fisting Sam's collar and shaking him, pointing ahead to a small blob of darkness in the shape of a square. Sam barely heard him, despite Dean screaming so loudly that his voice cracked, but he followed his brother's point. It had to be the first cabin, it had to be. And if it wasn't, it was some form of shelter visible through the thick veil of snow. Sam nearly sagged in relief- the only reason he didn't was because Dean was relying on him as much as he was relying on Dean. </p><p>Tell a broken Winchester to carry their own weight and they might fall. But tell them to carry each other and they could run a marathon. </p><p>That being said, the last stretch was the worst. Their backs were in screaming pain, their hearing muffled due to the abuse of the constant roar of the storm. The snow was packing itself thicker and thicker with every step it seemed, making it harder to break through. Their jeans had been soaked for a while, now stiff with ice, the bottoms coming out from where they had tucked them into their boots, allowing snow to pile up their legs. Their knees felt like they could buckle at any second. That horrible feeling had spread to their chests, making it nearly impossible to breathe, eyes stinging from the cold air, migraines pounding at their skulls. </p><p>Neither were doing well, but Sam felt even more off then he feels like he should be. There was something wrong, he knew that, but granted that he was in the middle of a blizzard, it wasn't like that wasn't known already. He was starting to feel hot, and he had stopped shivering. Dean was still shaking under his arm as they staggered forward, meaning his body was still fighting to maintain it's heat. Sam didn't think there was a single inch of his body that wasn't frozen. His foot was suddenly caught on a tree root as he stepped, and Sam couldn't keep himself standing. His legs gave out, body shutting down as the snow pulled him down to swallow him. He went face first, straight into the blanket of white, losing his grip on his older brother.</p><p>Under any other circumstances, Dean would have laughed, but this time he didn't. Sam didn't want to move despite how cold he was with the snow pressed against him. He felt a firm hand clench on his back and Dean's face was serious as he grabbed his brother's coat and pulled him into a sitting position. The older hunter was kneeling down in the snow, sheltering his younger sibling from the wind. Sam opened his eyes and met his brother's concerned gaze.</p><p>"How we doing Sam? Huh?" Dean asked worriedly, panic lacing his tone.</p><p>"Not good," Sam admitted wearily. The young Winchester felt hot all of a sudden. His skin had been crawling ever since he had that snow go down his back, but it had turned to stinging now. He was sweating- or maybe that was snow dripping down his neck. He couldn't feel the cold anymore, instead it just stung. He was hot, he concluded and he tugged at his hood, trying to bring it down.</p><p>Dean's hand was suddenly gripping his wrist and his older brother shook his head, pulling the fabric back up, "No. Hey! Keep it on."</p><p>"But-" Sam protested, not really knowing why.</p><p>He felt Dean slip a hand onto his cheek after yanking off his glove and he would have batted his hand away but he was too tired. His brother cursed at the touch and he muttered, "You're too cold. You're too cold, Sam, we gotta keep going."</p><p>"It feels weird," Sam told him weakly.</p><p>"I know," Dean told him, gripping his coat firmly after he pulled his glove back on, "but stick with me, okay? I need you to stand- I can't carry you in this. Come on, Sam." </p><p>Sam heard the fear in his voice and it made him look at his brother and nod, standing up, Dean steadying him with effort, locking his brother's arm around his shoulder. His voice was sharp as he demanded, "Stick with me, man, we're almost there- I can see the porch, come on-"  </p><p>"Yeah," Sam said weakly, staggering forward with him, legs stiff, eyes still half glazed over. It was getting harder for him to breath, his muscles becoming rigid. </p><p>Dean noticed this, and the fact that Sam had stopped shivering, and he cursed to himself, realizing that thinking he was hot meant that his nerves were beginning to be damaged- a stage in hypothermia. His little brother was a lot worse off than he had thought. The older hunter set his gaze ahead of him and quickened his pace, Sam leaning heavily aginst his side. </p><p>The fact that it actually <em>was</em> a cabin made things a whole lot easier when scrambling towards it in hopes for shelter. Dean grit his teeth and reached for the railing, fighting against the wind as he shoved snow aside in order to get a good grip on it. He and Sam climbed up the stairs practically on their hands and knees, shoving snow out of the way as they scrambled to their feet on the solid wooden porch. Both hit the wall in unison, pressing their backs to it, relieved to have something to lean against. Sam groaned with a tight gasp and Dean weakly patted his chest with encouragement, urging him to hang on for just a minute longer.</p><p>Dean fumbled with his backpack, nearly toppling over when he let it fall to the floor of the porch because of the weight change. Something snagged his coat though, keeping him upright, and Sam straightened his older brother with effort before he could tumble back down the stairs. Dean's gaze of thanks was short but meaningful, given their situation, and he immediately went to yank his gloves off, bending his trembling fingers with effort and a wince. Then he struggled with the zipper, frustration kicking in with his shaking hand that was numb, unable to grip the small piece of metal.</p><p>"De-, here-" Sam slurred with exhaustion. Understanding what his older brother was doing, he fumbled to hand him his own lock pick which he had kept in a closer pocket that was buttoned shut instead of with a zipper. They both knew that kicking the door in and breaking it down would screw them in the long run. A couple more seconds out in the storm, despite both of them wanting to get inside as soon as possible, had to happen if they were going to survive. Dean took the lock pick gratefully and ripped off his other glove with his teeth, flexing that hand as well. It took the older Winchester longer than usual to pick it because of the storm and his freezing hands, but the click was heard over the roar of the wind.</p><p>In sudden urgency, using the last of his energy, Dean choked out, "C'mere-" his brother stumbling towards him without protest. Once he was close enough, Dean got a grip on Sam's jacket as his brother's eyes started to close and he pulled him to his side, pushing through the door. They staggered into the house and Dean kicked the door closed behind him, trying to lower his brother to the ground before both of their legs gave out.</p><p>The gasps for air that were let out went unmatched by any time either one of them had come back to life. The two of them collapsed the rest of the way to the ground in the dark cabin, shivering, ears ringing, breathing hard-</p><p>They didn't dare move, legs twitching, back aching from carrying the pack for so long, eyes adjusting to the dark. After a minute, Dean put a hand on Sam's back and curled his fist into his brother's jacket. "Sammy, you with me?" he croaked worriedly, head pressed against the cold floor, not wanting to move. God, it felt weird talking at a normal volume.</p><p>"Y-yeah," Sam groaned quietly, eyelids slipping shut as he curled up weakly on the ground, teeth starting to chatter again. Dean couldn't believe that was a good sign and he crawled closer to his brother with a wince, reaching to check his pulse which was steady but very faint. His fingers pressed against Sam's neck were already freezing but for some reason he still nearly recoiled from how much colder his brother's skin was, even worse then when he had checked outside. </p><p>"That's convincing," he rasped, groaning as he fumbled for the flashlight and waved it around, barely enough strength to lift his head. There was a fireplace by the end of the room and Dean knew they had matches and lighter fluid in the backpack. "Let's get you warmed up, brother, okay?"</p><p>He saw his younger sibling was looking at it too once he turned back to face him, Sam pushing himself up onto his elbows. He was feeling cold again, very cold, which he guessed he should be grateful for. </p><p>"T-that would be good," Sam nodded, and the brothers helped each other to their feet, Dean waving the flashlight around as they maneuvered between the couch and table to get to the fireplace. The house wasn't exactly warm, but it was definitely better than the weather behind the door. If they were going to combat nearly freezing to death they needed some warmth, now, and the heat (if there was any) in the house would take a while to kick in. Fire was the best bet.</p><p>The youngest Winchester shrugged off his bag, Dean snatching his collar to keep him steady as Sam nearly toppled backward just as Dean had on the porch. Giving him a shoulder clap of thanks, Sam sucked in a breath despite the pain in his lungs and then grabbed some lighter fluid from inside once he managed to get the zipper off, his hands shaking like brother's a minute ago. It felt like he was going to snap his fingers like twigs whenever he made a fist, and they stung like hell. He walked over and eased himself to the ground with difficulty, spraying the liquid across all the logs. Dean lit a match after a period of cursing, finally getting one to burn. He tossed it into the flames, triumphantly and relieved, before grabbing some more wood that was stacked by the edge and adding that on top of the growing fire. </p><p>The warmth was comforting and Dean leaned the flashlight against the wall to give them some more light. "Jacket off before you get hypothermia," Dean directed firmly and instantly, before he even had a second to take another breath. </p><p>Sam gave him a firm nod as he slowly reached to pull down his coat, fumbling with the zipper. The older hunter did the same, ripping off his jackets with a shiver, tossing them to the floor by the fire. Sam eventually got out of the winter coat and let it drop to the ground beside him while trembling, his teeth aching from how hard they had chattered over the span of that hike. A pile of snow fell to the floor that had been crammed down his jacket, landing in a packed heap. He stared at it and suddenly felt even colder, realizing that was the remainder of the snow that had fallen down his back.</p><p>Dean cursed, realizing that had been in his jacket the entire hike, ruining any attempt to rely on body heat. No wonder Sam had been showing signs of hypothermia. His younger brother looked up at him guiltily and muttered, "I didn't feel it."</p><p>Dean's eyes widened a bit when he realized Sam was apologizing and he eased his glare which he realized he had been pointing at his brother in misdirected anger. "It's okay," he told him firmly, reaching to help his younger sibling take off his thinner jacket which even Dean could feel was soaked with his cold hands. That left Sam in a damp t-shirt, his long hair and bangs dripping wet and plastered into clumps with snow.</p><p>The young Winchester narrowed his eyes in the firelight to undo the laces on his boots next with stiff fingers, Dean doing the same with his own hiking shoes and tossing them along the floor. Then his older brother pointed to the fire as he pushed himself slowly to his feet, rubbing his arms and scooping up the flashlight, "I'm gonna see if I can get lights or something, okay? Warm up, stay there."</p><p>"Yeah," Sam croaked as Dean limped off. He was starting to shiver again as he grabbed his bag and rummaged through, curling his fingers painfully around the pair of sweats he had brought, resisting the urge to wrap his arms around himself and just curl up on the spot. He forced his limbs to work as he peeled off his jeans and switched into the sweats, the soaked pants stiff with ice. Sam shivered and moved closer to the fire, putting his hands up and rubbing them together, his entire body shaking as he leaned back against the couch. A minute later the young Winchester squinted as the lights above him flickered to life, and there was a low rumble in the walls as the heat turned on in the cabin. The sound alone was comforting, maybe because it sounded like the rattle of the impala's engine. He heard his brother come back into the room but he didn't have the strength to turn around and crane his neck. </p><p>"We got lights and heat. Storm, one. Winchesters, two," Dean announced happily as he made his way back around the table.</p><p>Suddenly there was a blanket draped over Sam's shoulders and he looked sideways at his older sibling who tucked it around him carefully with a ghost of a smile, tightening it and rubbing his arms for a couple seconds. Then Dean tossed him another one to put over his legs. Sam wasn't going to complain; the blankets were a welcome source of heat and he tugged it over his knees to his waist. Dean changed into sweats before he sat down next to his brother, also with a blanket around his upper body and legs, shoulder to shoulder with Sam as they leaned against the back of the couch.</p><p>"You warming up?" Dean asked him seriously, pulling his knees to his chest and tucking his legs into the blanket, rubbing his hands together to try and generate some heat himself. </p><p>"Yeah, you?" Sam shivered, unable to help his chattering teeth which probably gave away his lie. But at least he was shivering. It scared him when he wasn't. He can't believe he tried to take his hood down- what was he thinking? He tried to remember feeling hot but all he his muscle memory recalled was being very, very cold. </p><p>Dean gave him a look, glancing at him with concern, "You liar. You need another blanket?”</p><p>”Nah,” Sam shook his head.</p><p>“Mhm-“</p><p>”Dean, I’m okay,” Sam insisted.</p><p>“Okay well you’re not so cut the crap. I'm gonna get you some water and then we brought-" The older hunter started to get up until his brother reached to put a hand on Dean's shoulder the minute he saw his sibling wince in pain. </p><p>"I got it," Sam assured him with a pat on the back as he eased himself to his feet, letting the blankets drop.</p><p>"Sam, you shouldn't-" Dean protested with a narrowed gaze.</p><p>"Neither should you," the young hunter pointed out, "but you haven't stopped walking around since we got here."</p><p>"You sure you're good?" Dean asked, twisting with him as Sam convinced him with a nod and look. The older Winchester didn't complain, his shoulders easing a bit as he allowed himself to relax, chin dropping to his chest for a second as he slumped against the furniture. Sam rounded the couch, bending down and having to direct all his focus into curling his fingers around the backpack's loop, before snagging his as well from where it was flat on the floor. He dragged both the heavy packs back over along with a blanket that was hanging over the edge of the chair. He handed the thick fabric to his brother, trying to shove it around his shoulders but once he sat down, Dean threw it back at his face. </p><p>"You need it more than I do, dumping an entire frosty the snowman out of your coat a minute ago," Dean scoffs with a hint of concern. "This is non negotiable, Sam." The young Winchester heard the edge to his voice that was tinted with worry as he eased himself back down to the floor, weakly wrapping the third blanket around himself with a shudder. </p><p>“Keep it tight,” Dean told him firmly, raising an eyebrow at the look Sam threw in his direction. “Hey, I just don’t want to wake up and have you hugging me because you’re not warm enough. I’ll punch you.”</p><p>”Oh, shut up,” Sam groaned loudly, and Dean snickered. He never failed to annoy his younger sibling. </p><p>The older Winchester sobered his expression and unscrewed the top of the water bottles, handing it to his younger sibling, making sure he took a couple gulps. He sipped a bit himself before tossing him a granola bar that Sam pulled into the folds of his blankets. Dean reached in concern and put his hand against Sam's forehead, removing it before his little brother could half-heatedly slap him off. "You're still freezing dude," Dean muttered with a frown, feeling the sting of the cold on his already freezing fingers. The joking tone was gone and his look made Sam swallow the sarcastic retort he had planned.</p><p>"Yeah. I'll be good, I just need a minute," Sam mumbled, curling up on his side as he brought the blanket up to his chin, head falling to the couch facing his brother with knitted eyebrows. "And you do too," he muttered sleepily.</p><p>"Yeah," Dean said slowly, watching his brother carefully, before deciding he did need to give Sam time to warm up and for his body to catch up with his own mentality to keep going until Sam was okay. The funny thing was that Sam knew that, and he was the one to call him out on it. Dean let out a tight sigh due to his chest and winced, carding a hand through his hair and huffing, "Well that was something." </p><p>Sam chuckled and muttered a soft, "Yeah, that's one way of putting it."</p><p>"If those people are out there there's no way we're finding them in this," Dean said quietly. He hated to bring it up, but it was the truth. The two of them took a pause to listen to the harsh winds still raging outside, looking sideways in unison at the window on the other end of the room, the snow blowing almost worse than it had when they were out in it, the screaming wind and whistling still heard inside the cabin.</p><p>"If they're out there Dean..." Sam whispered with a small shake of his head, his eyes wide with compassion.</p><p>"I know. But we've got to wait it out, we don't have a choice," Dean turned to look at his brother. "Let's hope they had shelter, because if they didn't, I almost hope the Wendigo got to them, because then they'd be in a cave and could still be alive by the time we go and look."</p><p>"Yeah," Sam said, sitting up with a wince, exhaling as he settled down again, closing his eyes.</p><p>Dean had paused, watching his younger brother in concern before announcing, "And you're not going anywhere until your lips turn a normal shade and you don't feel like you're an ice box anymore." He stared at Sam's face, lips tinted slightly blue, a yellowish shade sticking out against his pale face and saw his brother slowly open his eyes to stare back at him.</p><p>"Rude," Sam grumbled with a slight smirk, his jaw clenching as his body tried to get his teeth to chatter to warm up, eyebrows knitting as his body jerked on his own accord, trying to shiver.</p><p>"I'm serious," Dean insisted with the hint of a smile, trying to keep Sam distracted from the fact that he was freezing cold. "And you've got a couple hours worth of insults coming your way buddy boy, because we're gonna be stuck here a while."</p><p>"Oh, God," Sam groaned with a start of a laugh that turned into a low cough.</p><p>It made him squeeze his eyes shut and (finally) shiver and Dean's face fell slightly at that, despite knowing that a shiver was good news. "Well this isn't looking good for you if you can't laugh. I'm hilarious."</p><p>Sam opened one eye and insisted almost <em>too</em> seriously, "I'm fine."</p><p>"That hooting cough of yours says differently," Dean raised an eyebrow before he added, "Hey, wait a minute. Are you saying I'm not funny?"</p><p>"Of course not," Sam mumbled unconvincingly as closed his eyes again. A second later, he felt his older brother's gaze on him and he sighed, blinking to stare at him, unimpressed with the mother hen routine. “Do I have something on my face?”</p><p>”Eyes, mouth, and nose,” Dean nodded with a straight face, getting a scoff from his younger sibling. </p><p>“I’m not going to spontaneously combust, I promise you,” Sam joked.</p><p>Dean put up his hands in surrender and countered, "I know. I'm just stating for the record that if you get sick, I swear, I'll kill you. I don't want to have to take care of a sniffly Sam Winchester." </p><p>Sam grinned mischievously as he curled his blanket tighter, before drawling, "Glad to know you care so much."</p><p>"You're welcome," Dean responded with a smile, before he reached over with his blanket wrapped around his hand, ruffling his brother's wet bangs. It was a mix of affection and getting the snow and ice out of his hair, and Sam smirked.</p><p>"Just warm up, okay?” Dean told him gently before he straightened with a smirk and announced sarcastically, “Fix this hypothermia crap before it gets to the point where you have to generate body heat because you can forget it, Sam, I’m <em>not</em> about to cuddle you." </p><p>Sam knew that had been said to cover up his concern but it did not stop him from rolling his eyes and scoffing, “Dean, shut up.”</p>
<hr/><p>The fire crackled at a pretty good height now and the older Winchester stretched his stiff legs which were regaining feeling, admitting, "You know, under other circumstances this would be nice. Like a vacation. If we hadn't been fighting for our lives a second ago."</p><p>How many times had they talked about just hustling pool long enough to get a good chunk of money and going to a lake for a week- no hunts, no monsters- just a beach house or a cabin. This wasn't what either of them had in mind. If he just ignored how cold he was and their snow soaked clothes that were laid out in front of the fire to dry, he could almost convince himself they were renting a cabin, not crashing in some random one after nearly being killed by mother nature herself. Dean figured it wasn't long before they had to deal with her one day. He wouldn't be surprised.   </p><p>"Yeah," Sam snorted, easing back to normal, the blankets helping. "Happy vacation."</p><p>"Happy vacation," Dean agreed with a chuckle, looking down.</p><p>Sam rubbed his neck with a low groan and made a face, "The past couple hours definitely made the list of worst moments of my life. And that's saying a lot considering what we've seen and done."</p><p>"If it wasn't on that list, I would be concerned," Dean said, taking a sip of the water bottle they had nearly finished over the past ten minutes. "But you know, I think we should acknowledge the fact that we could have died, and we didn't. Hurray for us."</p><p>"Hurray," Sam agreed with a chuckle before he shook his head and admitted sadly, "I had been wanting snow, too. I was just thinking the other day that we hadn't had a nice snow storm on a while."</p><p>"So it's your fault," Dean accused him with a gasp, making Sam grin.</p><p>"Shut up," his younger brother muttered, curling the blanket around himself tighter with a shuddery exhale.</p><p>Dean then craned his neck to look behind him and flexed his hands and feet, realizing he was able to move without the striking pain. He was starting to regain feeling again in his body, his migraine going away, chest opening up. He put his palms on the ground and used Sam's shoulder to help him up, announcing, "Okay, well I can move without tremendous agony, so I'm gonna see what else we've got at our disposal in here."</p><p>"Be careful," Sam told him with those big puppy eyes and Dean scoffed. </p><p>"I just survived a snow storm, I think I can make it across the room without dying, worry wart," his older brother told him. Over the next minute, Sam heard sporadic whoops and whistles that made him smile despite being extremely cold, and Dean came back over with pillows, more blankets, a pile of food and- "Beer," Dean announced happily. "Welcome to the Winchester motel. We don't have cable but we do have room service."</p><p>He dumped all the stuff out onto the floor, shoving the array of food in the middle before sinking down in the pile of pillows and blankets he had spread out over them. "And, I'm the best brother in the world because look what I found." He held up hand warmers and tossed them to his brother who grinned happily at the heat beneath his fingers when he caught them. Dean looked up cautiously and pointed at them, "But don't put them directly on your skin tho, slip them on top of the first blanket or something, okay?"</p><p>"Yes, mom," Sam rolled his eyes. </p><p>"Hey, how about a thank you?" Dean countered, rolling him a beer that he let hit and spin out by his side. Sam already felt warmer less than a minute later, and he drank the rest of the water, his brother cracking open a cold one with a happy sigh after putting a handful of trail mix in his mouth. "Found a cabinet with all this crap. Many thanks to whoever rented this place," he called to no one in particular. </p><p>"I'll drink to that," Sam nodded, knocking cans with him after opening the one Dean gave to him. </p><p>"And!" the older Winchester said excitedly, reaching over to grab something beside him. "We don't have to talk about you being certifiably insane for not liking whipped cream for the rest of this storm because I found-" he whipped back around with full arms. Go Fish, a pack of cards, and a puzzle were in his hands. Dean held up a finger, "First things first. Go Fish."</p><p>"That's for two year olds," Sam groans, grabbing the bin of pretzels and munching on a few. </p><p>Dean checks the box of cards and points sarcastically to the bold numbers. "It says four plus. Give me the pretzels."</p><p>Sam snorted as he handed Dean the bin and shook his head, "Dude no. We're not playing that."</p><p>"Dude, yes. First of all, I checked, there's no TV. Plus, you made me play it with you all the time as kids. So this is payback," his brother announced, already taking out all the cards before he added firmly, "and this time I won't just let you win."</p><p>"You never <em>let</em> me win!" Sam gasps in disbelief. "You always beat me! Except maybe once or twice."</p><p>Dean looking up with a raised eyebrow. "Yeah and those two times, I <em>let you win</em>," he says slowly, cocking his head in mock confusion.</p><p>"The game revolves around chance, there's no strategy to this whatsoever," Sam told him with a scoff.</p><p>"False," Dean points at him. "I withheld my talents on rare occasion because back then you were even more of a cry baby. But that was a while ago Sammy, and I just braved a snow storm and now I'm on a fake vacation. I'm unstoppable and showing no mercy. You're going down," Dean announced as he shuffled the deck and then started dividing the cards. </p><p>"I very well could be, since it's a game of <em>chance</em>," Sam sniffed, opening up his cocoon of blankets to grab his stack of cards, turning towards his brother and shuffling through the hand he was given. </p><p>"Big brothers go first because they're better," Dean announced before Sam could even open his mouth, immediately asking, "Do you have any 5's?"</p><p>"You're supposed to say the name of the fish," Sam told him with a sigh, running a hand through his wet hair. </p><p>Dean snorted in disbelief, shaking his head, "No you most definitely are not. And even if you were, I'm sorry I'm not a nerd. I don't know all the names to these dumb fish. Except Clownfish, because that's Marlin and Nemo." </p><p>Sam rolled his eyes and handed over his five, which Dean plucked out of his fingers with a grin, slamming his pair of cards down on the wood floor with a cocky, "Already beating you."</p><p>The younger Winchester suppressed a smile and shivered once, starting to feel the heat come back to his body. He scanned his cards and announced, "Got any royal blue tangs?"</p><p>"Speak English, Sam."</p><p>"Dory!"</p><p>Dean grinned and wiggled his eyebrows, proudly announcing, "Go fish, bitch."</p><p>Sam sighed in annoyance and muttered, "Jerk," taking from the middle pile. </p><p>There were five following rounds of Go Fish, which resulted in Dean winning 3-2. Then it was a game of War, that seemed to never end, and by now Sam was getting his color back to his face and lips as he warned up. How could he not; the two of them had gotten into screaming matches, yelling "one, two, three, war!" and then exploding over who got to take the scattered cards for themselves. Every time the game tipped to one brother's advantage they would get all the way down to Sam or Dean having less than five cards left, the other with practically the whole deck, and then it would even out again and switch. Sam finally won after an hour and a half and insisted on a puzzle to calm his brother down who was raging that if he had two more hands he could have turned the tides and won.</p><p>The puzzle didn't help to calm them down, only frustrate them more, since Dean wanted to do the edges first and Sam wanted to group the pieces that looked similar- also there was one piece that they had convinced each other had fell out of the box, both knowing it hadn't. When the tensions rose to the point where it was concerning, they decided to leave that for later, spending the next couple hours playing card games. </p><p>Dean checks his watch after a while and announces it's time for his younger brother to go to bed anyway. Sam talked back like Dean knew he would, and the older Winchester countered his sibling's argument, turning to put another piece of wood into the fire. Sam went quiet and when he turned back around, he saw his brother's eyes were closed, head turned towards Dean, leaning against the couch. </p><p>The older hunter first smirked before he called over his shoulder, "Sam, go on the couch, idiot." Waiting for his brother to wake up and make some sarcastic comment, he turned when he was met with silence. Dean saw he was already <em>fast</em> asleep, chest rising and falling deeply. The older Winchester sighed before reaching and cupping Sam's cheek, relived to feel his temperature had gone up and he was no longer cold to touch.</p><p>"Thank God," he muttered, congratulating himself internally. "If you had gotten hypothermia I would have been so pissed," he said, using a laugh to disguise his relief. Then he huffed and pushed himself back up against the couch, shoving the trash out of the middle and pulling the blanket up. He looked sideways at Sam and smiled fondly, "Happy Vacation, little brother."</p><p>Sam's blanket fell off his shoulders as he shifted in his position and Dean reached, pulling it back to his chin out of instinct. His brother went still after a calm exhale and Dean nodded, satisfied, before he crossed his arms and leaned backward, head against the couch as he closed his eyes, the fire crackling in front of them.</p>
<hr/><p>"Are you sure, Sam? Cause you say the word and we'll stay." Dean looked up at his younger brother in question.</p><p>He was met with an RBF at it's finest. "Dean, <em>seriously</em>?"</p><p>The older Winchester cracked a smile at the word emphasis and joked, "What, you on Doctor Sexy MD now?"</p><p>"Dean!" Sam exclaimed in exasperation.</p><p>"Yes, I'm serious," Dean said firmly. "I can't be more serious. This is my serious face."</p><p>Staring contest, both gazes fierce. </p><p>Dean had woken up with a small pain in his back that made him wince as he straightened, his arm resting on the couch. His younger brother was fast asleep and Dean put a hand on his head, messing up his hair as he eased himself to his feet with the help of the couch that neither one of them slept on. Sam blinked and straightened at the rough nudge, Dean smirking as he crossed the room and went to the window. The snow had stopped, the outdoors morphing into an ocean of white when he squinted to look through the glass. The wind had stopped too, the cabin filled with a calming silence. </p><p>They had decided to go back out after finishing off the food they had found in the cabin and grabbing all the extra supplies they could use around the house. Flashlights, batteries, first aid kits, scarfs, gloves- the stuff came in handy. Neither of them liked stealing, Sam had pointed this out multiple times until Dean threatened to throw a hat at him if he said it again, but they came to the conclusion that they needed to find the people who had gone missing and couldn't do that if they nearly froze to death again. </p><p>The fire had died off in the night but it had been raging long enough to somewhat dry their clothes, their jeans only slightly damp when they pulled them back on. Dean was more worried about his brother once they got all dressed in their winter coats to brave the temperatures, backpacks filled to the brim. They had a new pair of gloves and scarfs to add to the extensive layering, but Dean was still worried about his younger brother. </p><p>"Okay, well <em>seriously</em>, I'm fine," Sam insisted, tightening his laces on his hiking boots as he broke off the staring contest.</p><p>"I won," Dean announced the results before he made a face, "And you weren't fine when you collapsed in my arms last night and nearly froze to death. Little warning for that next time."</p><p>"You make it sound like I fainted. My body shut down because I was on the brink of hypothermia," Sam corrected in annoyance.</p><p>"Yeah, okay, princess," Dean snorted.</p><p>Sam bit his tongue and decided not to argue. Instead he faced his brother and put his arms out, announcing as if for a record, "I feel better. Well enough to go, and Dean, even if I wasn't, we need to find these people. And you can't go alone. Who's gonna catch you when you take off your backpack and nearly fall down the steps?" Sam teased, shoving him in the shoulder as he passed him.</p><p>"Hey, you did that too!"</p><p>"You did it first!"</p><p>"Yeah because I was tired of carrying your sorry-"</p><p>"You weren't carrying me," Sam protested, grabbing the door handle and motioning outside. "Can we go?" He looked pointedly at the older hunter who groaned and nodded, starting forward with him. Sam opened the door and his relief was quashed as he sighed, glancing down. They were met with at least three feet of snow that had been piled up in front of the door from the wind and they both sighed in annoyance. </p><p>Dean gave a forced smile and announced, "Well isn't this fun?" He started forward with a big leap, some of the snow falling into the house behind him, Sam trying to step in his footprints as he followed. They couldn't really judge where the steps to the porch where so they kind of just slid down with a firm grip on the rail until they were positive they were on solid ground. Then the trek started again once they figured out which way they were going. </p><p>The temperature had gone up a bit, the sun now able to wrestle it's way through the clouds and melt some of the snow. Dean looked to his side at his brother and asked, "You warm enough?"</p><p>"Yeah," Sam nodded, the two of them going at a comfortable speed. It was quite beautiful compared to the warzone nature had become last night. It reared it's ugly head, but this was like the rainbow at the end of a storm. The sky was a light shade of blue, the trees delicately sprinkled with snow, an undisturbed blanket of white until the two hunter started trudging through it.</p><p>"Guess what?" Dean then asked with a mischievous smile, crunching beneath his feet, the wind a soft whistle unlike it's violent counterpart they had met last night.</p><p>"What?" Sam asked innocently, frowning when he saw the look on his brother's face.</p><p>"Ninety-nine bottles of beer on the wall-"</p><p>"Don't you dare start-"</p><p>"Ninety-nine bottles of beer-"</p><p>"Stop."</p><p>"Take one down-"</p><p>"Dean."</p><p>"Pass it around-"</p><p>"I mean it."</p><p>"Ninety-eight bottles of beer on the wall."</p><p>"I'm going to kill you."</p><p>Dean continued singing, louder as a result of Sam's swears as he trudged through the snow and the young Winchester finally bent down when they got to the low nineties, packed snow into his palms, clenching it into a tight ball, before hurtling it at his brother's back. It made contact and Dean turned slowly with wide eyes, "Did you just-"</p><p>They stared at each other until Dean plunged his hands into the snow and Sam dove to the side, bounding across the blanket of white as he scooped up more snow into his palms. A snowball flew past his head and his eyes widened, turning and yelling, "Hey! No headshots-"</p><p>A snowball caught him right in the chest and Sam groaned as it exploded, remaining clumps of snowflakes scattering his jacket. He threw his back, getting his brother in the shoulder, making Dean stumble as he launched another one. Sam batted that one away and barely ducked the next, getting hit in the leg which made him stumble. He twisted to right himself, throwing one that hit Dean right in the groin and his older brother promptly fell sideways into the snow, holding his crotch. </p><p>"Ahhh, that's not fair," Dean groaned, resting on top of the packed snow, his face twisted into an expression of uncomfort. Sam laughed, tossing his snowball to the side and declaring a truce as he walked over and held out his hand.</p><p>"I win," Sam announced.</p><p>The older Winchester nodded and grabbed his hand, before yanking Sam down and slamming a snowball into his back. "I win," Dean countered, getting up as Sam turned over in disbelief. "Younger brothers never win anything." He smiled as he held out his hand though and Sam accepted it, letting his older sibling help him to his feet and brush him off. </p><p>"I won war," Sam pointed out with a grin. </p><p>His brother's head snapped towards him with a frown and he threatened, "Do you want me to push you down again?"</p><p>"Just accept the fact that you lost, Dean."</p><p>"Never."</p>
<hr/><p>Forty minutes later and they were worried that they might not find these people. Mary and Nick, the two campers, had been supposedly camping at the coordinates they had just passed. Dean and Sam dug around for a bit, looking for any signs of an attack but it was all clear. The logical explanation was that they had gone to take shelter from the storm, but both Winchesters knew a Wendigo was in play too.</p><p>It was then that they saw a cabin a little ways down that had smoke rising from the chimney. The two brothers looked at each other and quickened their pace, getting to the cabin, up the stairs, and pounding on the door, hoping it was this easy, but also hoping it wasn't because that would mean they risked their lives for nothing. </p><p>It was opened a second later by a very confused woman who glanced Sam and Dean over and opened the door wider. "Oh my God, we didn't think there was anybody else out here. Are you hikers?" she asked urgently. "Did you guys get stuck in the storm too?"</p><p>Dean flashed her a smile and asked slowly, "Mary?"</p><p>She frowned, her gaze flicking to Sam before nodding, "Yeah?" </p><p>"Great," Dean said happily, sighing in mixed relief. "And is Nick here?"</p><p>"Nick's in the kitchen- who are you?" she demanded.</p><p>"Yes, we did get stuck in the storm but no, we're not hikers. We were actually sent to come look for you, to make sure you were okay," Sam interrupted with a soft smile of reassurance.</p><p>"Your friends or family didn't receive a check in so Wildlife Services got worried- oh, that's who we're with," Dean explained.</p><p>"Our badges are in our bags if you want us to pull them out," Sam added, pulling the puppy eyed look already. Jeez, Sammy. But it worked; she waved her hand dismissively and invited the two of them inside with a warm smile, closing the door behind them.</p><p>She swallowed and shook her head, pressing a hand to her forehead, "Thank God. I- we broke our satellite phone, I didn't know what to do. We were gonna head back but then the storm hit and we just went to the nearest place-" Then she shifted on her feet and looked around the room, "We're not in trouble, right? This- this isn't our cabin, we just needed to get out of the storm-"</p><p>"No, ma'am, you're fine," Sam assured her as a man entered the room- that must be Nick. He nodded to the two brothers, introducing himself and shaking their hands. They were just a couple, hoping to get away for the weekend, hiking along one of the popular trails when they had crushed the phone into a rock. Silly mistake. It happens. Mary invited them around the corner into the living room as she told their story. Sam and Dean sat down on the couch in unison, crossing their hands in front of them.  </p><p>"Well I'm glad this was all a misunderstanding and not something worse. And we're glad you found shelter. I do have one question, have either of you seen anything weird on your hike?" Dean asked slowly with a casual shrug.</p><p>Her brow furrowed and she sat down in the chair next to Nick, frowning, "Weird? Weird like what?"</p><p>"Well, weird probably isn't the best word," Dean corrected himself. "Not to alarm you but there have been sightings of a...grizzly a couple miles from here, not friendly at all, had a close encounter with some hikers. We were just wondering if it was still wandering around these parts?" he asked, cocking his head. </p><p>Mary and Nick exchanged looks, shaking their heads when they returned their gaze to the brothers. They both denied it honestly. "No, it was a normal hike until the blizzard," Nick told them both. "If it was around here I'm sure it went and found shelter too, but no, before the storm there was nothing."</p><p>"Okay, and you both are fine, correct? No injuries, and you've got enough food and provisions to make it back?" Sam asked them. </p><p>The couple nodded firmly, "We were lucky we were so close to this cabin when the storm hit. But yeah, we're fine. We were actually packing up to head back when you guys got here. The parking lot we used is on the North side, a couple hours' hike. We were camping out about a mile away, but we knew the tents wouldn't hold up in this wind." </p><p>"Got it," Sam nodded, clasping his hands. "Well obviously we're both thrilled you're alright and that you didn't get caught up in that storm. If I may ask, does your bathroom happen to work?"</p><p>"Yeah, surprisingly, it does," she pointed around the corner. "We turned on the running water this morning, it's right around the corner." Dean cursed at that, since theirs remained stubbornly shut off no matter what he tried. </p><p>"Thanks," Sam smiled before standing up and shrugging off his backpack by Dean, crossing the room and disappearing around the corner.</p><p>The older Winchester gave the two of them a smile and said, "Well I'm sure happy you guys are okay."</p><p>"I feel bad you had to come all the way out here," Nick said with a frown. "We didn't mean to cause so much trouble."</p><p>"No, it's fine, we're just," Dean sighed and clasped his hands, "Doing our job. It really is no problem."</p>
<hr/><p>The inhuman eyes stared at the cabin, moving towards it, up the steps and onto the porch with a speed a normal man could never reach. It's arm moved forward, long fingers with claws stained with blood, jaws dripping, it's hand clasping around the handle of the door that was not locked. Red eyes with raw skin circling them narrowed, stretched skin wrinkling as the knob turned slowly with a small squeak, the wooden door creaking at how slow it was opened.</p><p>The Wendigo's back was hunched, senses alert, ready to kill, breathing with a low growl as it stared into the cabin, the wind blowing in, snow scattering the floor. Behind it was an endless field of white, silent and calm. It stared ahead, the perfect hunter stalking it's prey.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>YEET how was it? drop a comment i love hearing from you guys<br/>New part up soonnnnnn :)))) have an awesome day. cup of coffee #3 done &gt;:)<br/>PSA: online school is sucky XD ANYWAY uhhhh see you soon!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Happy Vacation Part 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>A little Red Meat roles reversed &gt;:)</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>HEYO AWESOME READERS<br/>i got no sleep. Its fantastic. Really suggest it. Jk. unless you have coffee which i do :)))))))))))))<br/>I hope yall are doing well, here's part 2 for ya!! Have an awesome Monday, this is my last week before winter break and omg i am so ready to be done with school. ANYWAY hope you like it, take care, and enjoy!<br/>And thank you to everyone who commented &lt;3 &lt;3 im super glad youre liking the fic and hearing from you makes my day!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"We've had to come get plenty of people stuck in storms," Dean assured them with a smile. "Of course this one snuck up on us," he chuckled, engaging in some BS conversation until Sam got back.</p><p>"We checked the weather before we left," Nick nodded, shaking his head and stating for the record, "We never go out unprepared. All the radars said that the thunderstorm would be the last of it. We figured no one would be too concerned about the check in since we weren't due back until later."</p><p>"Don't worry, it caught us off guard too," Dean spoke in agreement, shifting his spot on the couch. "And yeah, there wasn't too much cause for worry but especially with the storm we decided we'd just make sure. We were out around this area anyway."</p><p>There was a sudden chill from behind him and the older Winchester shivered, a bad feeling sitting in his stomach. His ears strained to hear a slow creak of the door. Years of hunting gave him a sixth sense and it was going off the charts. Dean's hand went subtly to his side, fingering the gun in his waistband. He glanced over his shoulder in confusion, scanning the empty hallway, sure he had remembered the woman closing the door behind them when they had walked in.</p><p>Mary seemed to notice too and she patted Nick on the arm as she grabbed a blanket, pulling it up to her chin as she pointing around the corner, "I must have not closed the door, babe. Can you get it?"</p><p>"Yeah, no problem," Nick said, pressing his palms to his knees as he stood.</p><p>Dean's heart gave a quickened beat and he twisted in his chair, choking out, "Nick, wait-"</p><p>"No it's fine, man, I got it," Nick assured him with a dismissive wave, turning the corner before the older hunter could form a clearer warning. The bloodcurling scream from the other side of the wall brought him immediately to his feet, the chair toppling over behind him. Mary jumped up too, blanket falling to the ground, eyes widening. The older Winchester moved backward, gun whipped out instantly as he whirled, other hand out to protect Mary, facing the corner that led to the hallway.</p><p>"Nick!" she screamed, stopped by Dean's arm.</p><p>"No, wait, wait. Stay here," he ordered with a firm gaze. There was a painful thump and crash from just out of sight in the hall, and the older Winchester tensed, eyes narrowed. Dean hesitated to leave her; there was a hallway behind him. Dean could have figured it out if he had been given one more second. He could have thought, is it human, or is it monster? He could have told her to move to the corner so he could have a view of the living room and hallway before running to where Nick went out of sight. Heck, he could have given her a gun.</p><p>But then another voice rang out. And all of his thoughts froze like they had been swallowed up by a thick patch of ice. </p><p>"DEAN!" </p><p>The scream of pain that could only be from his brother echoed in his ears and Dean's legs were already moving, sprinting across the room before the yell even finished, turning the corner with his gun raised, "SAMMY-"</p><p>Whipping around the corner, the barrel of his gun ended up pointed right at a Wendigo.</p><p>"Oh sh-" His eyes widened as he watched the monster slam Nick into the wall for the second time, the man already unconscious and it roared, turning on the older hunter.</p><p>Dean got off two shots despite knowing they wouldn't do much, cursing himself for not thinking about the fact that these bastards could mimic a human voice. It swiped once and Dean staggered away, the claws barely clipping his jacket. His back hit the wall and Dean ducked the next hand which tore through the plaster above him, ripped paint flakes sprinkling the floor like fallen snow.</p><p>"DEAN!" Sam yelled from inside the living room near the back of the cabin. Sam's eyes locked with his as he charged forward to help his brother. Meanwhile, the older Winchester fired two more shots into the monster's belly and saw the Wendigo twist, whipping back around with an outstretched arm and that's when he couldn't avoid-</p><p>Sam watched in horror as the Wendigo slashed and made contact, digging- ripping- <em>raking</em> it's claws across Dean's side, through his jacket and skin, his older brother letting out a yell of pain as he was tossed across the floor, tumbling into the living room. </p><p>"NO!" Sam sprinted for the backpack on the ground, vaulting over the couch as he gripped one of the flare guns from the open pack and slid, kicking the chair into the Wendigo that was going for the hiker it had knocked unconscious in the hallway. Scrambling to his feet, he put himself in between the monster and his brother, facing it with an unmatched fury, vision red. Sam stood and in one fluid motion, cocked it and fired with the familiar squeeze of a trigger.</p><p>The flare traveled but the Wendigo sensed his movements, diving out the front door with it's enhanced speed. The flare caught it's shoulder and Sam was rewarded with a guttural roar, before it bounded down the porch and steps, extinguishing it's burnt arm in the snow. It fled into the woods, limping, and Sam hit the side of the door as he made sure it went to the tree line, breathing heavily, lowering the flare gun to his side.</p><p>There was suddenly a massive bang right next to him as Mary picked up the gun Dean had dropped and fired a shot after the monster who disappeared into the forest behind the thick cover of green. </p><p>"Hey, hey, hey-" Sam shouted in panic, flinching as Mary fired again. He grabbed her arm as gently as he could, shouting, "Bullets don't do anything! Mary, stop!" The young Winchester calmed the woman down who turned to him with wide eyes, allowing him to lower her hands and slip the gun out of her tight grasp. He tucked it into his waist band and slammed the door shut, locking it immediately. The Wendigo was hurt- he wouldn't risk coming back injured, at least not yet. And Sam had more important things to worry about.</p><p>"What the hell was that?" Mary seethed, stumbling against the closed door and grabbing his arm, stopping his stride towards the one thing that was on his mind. "Sam what the hell was that-"</p><p>The young hunter grabbed her shoulders and spoke as quickly as he could, "It was a Wendigo. I don't have time to explain- Mary, listen to me. I need you calm and I need you focused. Help Nick." Her eyes fell on the unconscious form slumped against the wall and she seemed to snap out of the trace she had been under. She went to her boyfriend's side with a nod, and Sam gave the man on the ground a mere second of a glance, deeming he was fine, and frankly, not really caring as he sprinted into the other room. </p>
<hr/><p>Sam dove to his brother's side, closing the distance in an instant, dropping to his knees beside the older hunter. Dean had hauled himself to lean against the wall, holding his bloody side with trembling, blood soaked hands, breathing hard. Sam cupped his face to raise his chin from where it was dropped against his chest, trying to get his green eyes to focus on him. "Dean? Dean!" he said again urgently. His brother's head was weak in his palm. </p><p>"Did you get it?" the older Winchester croaked, wincing in pain and licking his lips and he groaned, hands clutching his side on instinct which only made it hurt more, blood spilling over his fingers which resulted in a shuddery gasp. He allowed Sam to keep his head propped up and his eyes widened before narrowing again as he controlled the pain. Dean's jaw clenched as he pushed his head against the wall behind him, letting out a strangled groan. </p><p>"Stay still, don't move," Sam directed in terror, his hand hovering over the claw marks on his older sibling's side. The jacket was ripped, the frays of it dripping blood. "I need to see it-" the young hunter said quietly.</p><p>"Don't-" Dean threatened him. </p><p>"I need to see it, Dean," Sam insisted and he slowly peeled the jackets away, pained by the expressions that Dean was making as result of his movements. He exhaled sharply when it was revealed, the actual wound deep and grotesque, sticky liquid oozing out in small waves which drained into a pool of scarlet on the floor. Sam cursed, placing his hand over Dean's to help try and stem the bleeding. The sight of Dean's side was so torn up Sam had trouble picturing what it had looked like normally because of all the raw flesh that was weeping red. Sam reached and grabbed the nearest blanket that had fallen to the floor when Mary jumped to her feet. He bundled it up and pressed it firmly against Dean's side, closing his brothers hands over it which were slick with blood.</p><p>"The Wendigo, did you get it?" Dean repeated with gritted teeth that were stained red, hand snapping up and gripping Sam's shoulder as a result of his pain, so hard his knuckles turned white. Sam didn't notice, he just fisted his brother's jacket as well, keeping a firm hand on him for reassurance.  </p><p>"No," the young hunter faltered, reaching to grab his backpack and yank it skipping across the wooden floor. He ripped out the first aid kit and opened it with bloody hands, snatching out some gauze, removing the blanket and pressing the white fabric firmly against the brutal gash on his brother's side. </p><p>"It's cause you're a crappy shot," Dean mumbled, eyes squeezed tight, coughs turning to a sharp exhale and a low growl from the back of his throat that was strangled by a horrible sound that Dean wished <em>to God</em> Sam hadn't heard.</p><p>But Sam had heard it and his lowered gaze narrowed in panic, chest tightening from the noise that came from his older sibling. When he made eye contact with Dean though, the fear was absent in his gaze. He ripped the gauze and folded it up, telling his brother, "Keep insulting me or something. Just stay awake, got it?"</p><p>"Yeah, wouldn't want to miss this- SON OF A-" Dean let out a shout as Sam presses harder, grabbing his brother's wrist and moving it to press against his own wound while he got another piece of gauze. Dean glares at him as he exhales sharply but it's not full of hate- Sam knows it's not- it's out of <em>pain. </em>Dean's gaze softens into that of agony and he makes eye contact with his brother. Frankly, Sam missed the anger.</p><p>"I know, I know," Sam assures him quickly with a wince as his older sibling bites down hard on his lip, Dean's hand tightening on his shoulder, curling more of his shirt into his tight fist. </p><p>"Sam!" Mary yells from behind him. "Nick's not waking up-"</p><p>"Give him a minute, Mary, just keep him still, stabilize his head. If he's bleeding get something to press against it," Sam says distractedly, not taking his eyes off of his older brother and not moving from where he's crouched at his side. </p><p>"Oh-okay," she says. "Will he wake up?" </p><p>"Yeah, he just got tossed around a bit. Just hang tight, okay?" Sam agrees over his shoulder with encouragement, hand pressing against Dean's side, nearly throwing up as he feels the grooves beneath his fingers.</p><p>"How- how bad is it," Dean chokes down a deep breath, face falling as Sam grabs one of the water bottles. </p><p>"Stop it, Dean."</p><p>"Sammy, how bad is it," Dean swore, his hand closing over Sam's wrist and squeezing.</p><p>"Not bad at all, just a scratch," Sam tells him calmly, not willing to make eye contact because he knew Dean could read him. The wound made him want to throw up- so much dark blood spilling thickly over his hands, the skin a concerning shade of green surrounding the claw marks. He needed to get Dean to a doctor, but he needed to stop the bleeding and somehow close this cut if he wanted to even get him out of this cabin, let alone to a hospital. The young Winchester steadies himself and yanks off his scarf, rolling it up and giving it to his brother, "Here. It's gonna hurt like hell, okay?"</p><p>Dean grabs it with a shaking hand, wet with crimson blood and he bites down on it as Sam moves away the jacket and starts to clean the gashes with water as best he can. The older Winchester's jaw clenches and he slams his fist into the floor with a muffled yell, Sam wincing at his brother's pain, wanting to stop, but he knows he has to clean out the wound even if it's with water alone before he puts on the gauze. </p><p>He pours it down the main carving in Dean's side and his brother let's out a choked two syllable name under the scarf and Sam nearly drops the water bottle. <em>SAMMY. </em>He shakes his head, gritting his teeth and muttering, "Almost done, I promise. Two seconds."</p><p>Dean slams his head backward into the wall, the wave of water mixing with the blood, adding to the growing puddle on the floor, but it does it's job in getting the dirt out from the claws. Sam straightens the water bottle and sets it down, his older brother relaxing beneath his grip.</p><p>"There we go, look at that, hey, see?" Sam chuckles weakly with encouragement, squeezing Dean's shoulder. The older hunter lets the scarf drop from his mouth, sucking in a breath which makes him arch his back in pain, his hands going to his side. Sam grabs his wrist and pulls it away from his cut before he can touch it again, putting his brother's hand on his shoulder which Dean tightens his grip around again, blood soaking into Sam's shirt from his scarlet fingers. </p><p>He used his scarf to stem the flowing river of red as much he can before he starts taping the gauze onto the edges of the cuts where the gashes are narrower. "Breathe, I swear to God," Sam tells him, noticing his brother's tight chest and Dean grunts in pain in response.</p><p>Sam takes out another piece of gauze and gets the tape but his hands stop as his gaze falls on the massive scrape from the Wendigo's claw, too wide and too deep for any amount of gauze to do the trick. Dean's entire side is soaked red and the older hunter is shaking, his face loosing color rapidly, eyes fluttering. Sam needs to close that cut or Dean would bleed out. His voice is shaking a bit but he makes it as convincing as possible, "Okay, okay, you're getting there."</p><p>"There's a lot of blood," Dean says quietly, looking down and staring at the pool of blood that was getting to be a darker shade with every passing second. </p><p>"Thank you Sherlock," Sam nods, clapping his cheek once to make his eyes lose the gloss that was staring to creep over them. </p><p>"Get off me," Dean mumbles in defiance, weakly slapping his hand away.</p><p>"Get over yourself," Sam demanded. "And I know there's a lot of blood, but I'm gonna patch you up, so you don't have to worry about it," the confidence in his voice wasn't only for Dean's benefit but also himself." You're gonna hate me though," he admitted, looking up with caution. "I need your zippo."</p><p>Dean's eyes widen at the thought of what's about to happen and Sam gives him a nervous smile, rummaging into his own pocket for his swiss army knife. </p><p>"Oh this'll be fun," the older hunter grumbled weakly, pointing to his backpack side pocket as he bit down on the scarf again. Sam scrambled for it and wiped the flat of his swiss army knife off with one of the antibacterial wipes before he flicked the lighter on and ran it beneath it so that the flame licked the metal. When it was heated, Dean looked away and braced, sucking in a breath through his nose, teeth clenched hard. </p><p>Sam hesitated, before he winced and pressed the flat of the blade against the cut, face screwing up as his brother tensed beneath his grip, the older hunter choking as he held back a scream through a tight jaw that was trembling. He lifted the blade after two seconds to avoid killing skin and then pressed in a small line up the worst of the cut, shaking his head at his brother's agony, muttering, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry- almost-"</p><p>He was finally done and he clasped his brother on the shoulder, gently easing him back upright and Dean spit out the scarf for the second time, letting out a groan that broke off at the end. He caught his breath, avoiding inhaling through his nose so he didn't have to smell his own burning flesh. Dean glanced at his younger sibling and rasped, "I'm so...beating the crap out of you for that...later..."</p><p>Sam grins before he sobers his expression, knowing they weren't out of the woods yet. He looks behind him, shouting, "Mary!" The woman glances up from the man's side she's crouching next to and makes paniced eye contact with him. Sam keeps his tone level and tries for a smile, "Mary, I need you to find me duct tape, can you do that?" Sam's heart is pounding but he manages to keep his voice from shaking, "Mary? My brother's hurt, please."</p><p>"Yeah, yeah, I'll- I'll get some," she said firmly, snapping out of her trance immediately. </p><p>Sam cups Dean's chin and lifts his head when he sees it slump to his chest, "Hey, eyes up. How we doing? Good?"</p><p>"Great."</p><p>"Uh huh. Stick with me," Sam swears furiously, trying the drill instructor approach to keep his brother conscious. He can hear Mary shuffling through the drawers in the kitchen before opening the cabinet.</p><p>"Mhm," Dean grumbles, nose scrunching as he tries to hide the pain in his eyes. "Don't worry, Sammy, you're too annoying. I can't die in peace."</p><p>"You can't die, period," Sam corrects with a smile and his brother tries to return it with a smirk but it's laced with pain. The younger Winchester's gaze is torn away at his name being called, Mary crossing the room with the grey roll.   </p><p>She hands him the duct tape, staring at the pool of blood in shock, getting a good look at Dean who gives her a halfhearted smile. "Is he gonna be-" she whispers hollowly. </p><p>The young hunter doesn't let her finish. "He's gonna be fine," Sam snaps, not caring about his harsh tone. "Thank you." He hears Nick wake up from behind him and Mary hurries over to his side, eyes still wide. Sam isn't paying attention to him though; he's got one hand pressed to Dean's cut and one hand holding the duct tape.</p><p>"Alright, here we go, here we go- here we go-" He wastes no time in ripping a strip with his teeth before he peeling it into strips, making small tears in the middle and folding them down. Ripping a bit of his shirt to wipe the sides of the cut so it will stick, he places one strip of the duct tape on one side of the cut and then tugs it hard, pinching the cut which makes his older brother writhe beneath him, smoothing it down as tight as he can on the other side with the flattened part in the middle. </p><p>Dean punches him hard in the shoulder after he's done with the first "stitch", breathing through his nose, and Sam nods with a wince, flexing his arm, "I deserve that. Couple more."</p><p>"How many is a couple more?" Dean groans in annoyance. </p><p>"A couple," Sam answers his brother weakly. Dean's look makes him really worried and so he smiles with effort and recalls, "You remember that time when you got that new bike? You were, what, fourteen? And you refused to let me ride it unless you were there."</p><p>"I had to have something that was mine," the older Winchester protested weakly, swallowing. His head dips for a second before he brings it back up in defiance. Sam shifted his hand to clasp harder against the cut as he got another strip of duct tape and Dean's voice wavered for a split second as he muttered, "You're always stealing my crap."</p><p>"I was not," Sam countered, urging his brother into an argument in hopes that might keep him alert. </p><p>"You were too, and you still are. That's my old shirt," Dean pointed out with a raised eyebrow, leaning his head back against the wall. "Case closed."</p><p>Sam cracks a smile as he rips another strip and does the same thing, Dean grabbing at the wooden floor, his hands shaking as his entire body tenses. Sam repeats his method as quickly as possible. "Well remember when I wanted to have a turn on the bike? So while you were out 'studying' with one of your girlfriends, I rode it by myself and took a spill. All the way down that street next to the motel, scraped my leg from ankle to knee. And I was bleeding so bad by the time I dragged the bike back to the room. And I didn't want to call you because I knew you'd be pissed."</p><p>Sam rips a massive strip and smooths it diagonally down Dean's chest on either side of the cut on the ends of the duct tape. "But you called me anyway," Dean chuckled lowly with a nod, holding back a wince. </p><p>Sam grinned and nodded, "I called you anyway. From the hotel and you came back, ditching your date, pissed as hell, nearly crashing the car as you turned that corner into the parking lot. And then you cleaned me up, not even seeing the bike that was a screwed up mess of metal next to me."</p><p>He grabs the rest of the gauze and plasters it over that, grabbing the medical tape and sticking it in place. He's relieved that it's not bleeding through right away and he rolls up the other pack of gauze and shoves it into his pocket, knowing he's gonna need to reapply it. </p><p>"Oh I saw it," Dean snorted as his shoulders ease, "Don't kid yourself. I was pissed at you." Sam laughed and Dean cracked a smile that was quickly wrestled away by another wince of pain but the story had done it's job.</p><p>Sam puts his brother's shirt down and jacket and grips his collar, looking at him with wide eyes. "You good? How we doing?"</p><p>"Fantastic," Dean groans, raising a weak arm to give him a thumbs up and he clicks his tongue before exhaling in exhaustion. The older hunter looks down at his chest and assesses, "Not bleeding out, so that's good. Good strategy. I didn't know what caused me more pain, the chick flick we just had or the duct tape stitches. Debating kept me awake."</p><p>"That was the plan," Sam chuckled and Dean snorted in amusement. "And what was the result?"</p><p>"Oh chick flick hurt much more, without a doubt," Dean tells him. Sam breaks into a grin.</p><p>"We need to get out of here."</p><p>The young hunter looked over his shoulder at the voice and sees Nick swaying with his arm around Mary. He's partially leaning against the wall, wide eyes, shaking just slightly with an expression of fear. "We <em>need </em>to get out of here. <em>Now," </em>he repeats dangerously, gaze unhinged just slightly, enough to be concerning. There's a trickle of dried blood smeared on the side of his head, his hand clenched at his side shaking with white knuckles.</p><p>"Nick, you're in shock," Sam says calmly, raising one of his hands, the other tightening on Dean's jacket. "Is your back okay? I was gonna have Mary check for spinal chord injuries-"</p><p>"Shut up- shut the hell up-" Nick shouts at Sam, crazed and spluttering.</p><p>"Hey," Dean growls, giving the man a death glare. "Easy."</p><p>"What was that thing?" Nick demands furiously, to Sam his lower lip trembling. "It wasn't a bear, it wasn't human either-"</p><p>"A Wendigo," Sam says firmly, not really in the mood to ease into the talk, not with his brother hurt behind him. "We were hunting it, we thought it got to you, that's why we're out here," he explained calmly. </p><p>"So you're not rangers?" Mary asks slowly. </p><p>"We're not here to hurt you, we came to protect you," Sam says instantly, the woman easing with a nod. "Just tell me honestly you would have believed us if we said we were hunting that thing," he says firmly, staring her in the eyes. She don't seem too freaked out about Sam and Dean, but more the monster, which the younger Winchester thinks is a win. He starts to rethink that when he hears Nick's voice. He's been on the job long enough to hear when someone loses touch with reality. Nick was teetering on the edge- it might have been worse than he thought. </p><p>"We need to leave," the man whispered again, staring into Sam's soul with eyes that couldn't possibly open wider. "You need to come with us- what if that thing comes back?"</p><p>"I know." Sam turned back to his brother as he nodded in agreement, glancing at Dean's wounds before telling his older sibling seriously, "Dean, this is hospital level stuff. He's right, we need to go." </p><p>"Yeah, yeah-" Dean tried for a smile but it was weak and he sucked in a breath, clasping Sam's hand, starting to shove himself up into a sitting position before he let out a strangled sound of pain, clasping his hands over his side. Sam grips his jacket, cursing his brother for trying to stand without him. </p><p>"He's not gonna make it," Nick told Sam simply, before even a second goes by. </p><p>Those words hit Sam like a bowling ball to the chest and he whipped around in fury, demanding, "What the hell did you just say?"</p><p>Even Mary looked shocked and she slipped out from under his arm, leaving him to stand on his own, gasping, "Nick!"</p><p>"Look at him, he can't stand, he can't even walk two feet!" Nick spluttered, waving his hand before using it to grasp the wall. "Leave him here," he urged Sam, "we can send people back to get him, but that thing is gonna come for us and it will kill us. He'll only slow us down."</p><p>"He saved your <em>life, </em>you <em>pathetic</em> bastard!" Sam shouted, his eyes flashing red. </p><p>"Sam-" Dean's hand clenched on his arm as a warning.</p><p>Nick flinched and took a step back before he regained his toxic confidence and shook his head, using the fact that he was standing and the young hunter was on the floor to his advantage, despite the fierce glare burning into him. "Sam," he says brokenly, devastated with his decision as if they were friends. As if the man who just told him to leave Dean behind could ever be a friend. "We need to go," he said simply, acting as if this was the only option. "If he comes with us," Nick looked at Dean like he was some sort of disease and hissed, "that <em>thing</em>, that <em>Wendigo</em> will-"</p><p>"Nick, let me make this as clear as I possibly can-" Sam snarled, starting to shake with anger. </p><p>"It's three lives against one!" Nick shouted, his voice cracking as he swayed from where he stood, trying to shift his weight. </p><p>Dean had been watching him carefully, looking like he had something to say but rightly chose not to because of the look in his brother's gaze. It didn't happen often, but Dean knew when Sam was not ready to reason.</p><p>"Say that again, I dare you!" Sam shouted, cutting him off in anger. "You can go to hell for all I care but I'm giving you two options. Walk out that door, and get killed within the first hour, or we're all going together," Sam told him firmly, eyes flashing. Nick fumed at his back, Sam turning back to Dean and starting to zip up his jackets. "Am I clear?" he snapped to the man behind him, waiting for a response.  </p><p>"You won't leave without him," Nick said robotically. </p><p>"Good, he's starting to get it-" Sam snorted sarcastically.</p><p>Dean's eyes suddenly widened as he looked over his younger sibling's shoulder, mouth forming a violent frown. His eyes sharpened with intensity and Sam recognized the look he knew all too well, stomach thudding to the floor. Dean's protectiveness dripped off of the words he barked, "Hey- hey- hey, put it down!" His brother reached and grabbed Sam's collar, trying to pull him backward in a panic.</p><p>Sam looked over his shoulder and flinched, finding himself staring down the barrel of a gun. He instantly faced Nick who was aiming the firearm in his face and threw his arm out in front of Dean who was struggling to sit up. "Nick-"</p><p>"You won't leave without him. Not willingly at least," the whispered.</p><p>Sam pit his hands out, palms up and spoke calmly, "Put the gun down, Nick." </p><p>"We need to leave. We'll never make it with him," Nick squeaked, shaking his head as he trembled, his eyes darting back and forth, body swaying just slightly. Mary was standing off to the side, staring at him in shock. Nick cocked the gun and put his finger on the trigger, "We're leaving and you're coming with us."</p><p>"You shoot me and you're dead once you take one step outside," Sam countered, his voice level as he stared down the man who had the gun in the face of the younger Winchester. "That Wendigo will tear you to bits."</p><p>"I know," Nick nodded, fear in his dead eyes that were controlled by his own anger and panic. He shifted the gun without a change of expression even in the slightest, aiming it Dean, staring at Sam whose gaze narrowed, exhaling sharply, eyes pleading with the man. He inched in front of his brother, Dean's hand tight on the back of his jacket.</p><p>"But I can shoot your brother," he said quietly, numb of any emotion. His eyes were empty. There was an unhinged gaze behind those orbs, void of any reason or sanity that had once existed. How ironic that the very monster he was attacked by was once a man with the same deteriorating sense of humanity. Sam was staring at a shell of a person who had pulled the frays of his mind and unraveled the entire thread in a matter of minutes. Even in his profession, Sam was consistently shocked by the effect fear had on people.</p><p>Nick's voice shook as he asked seriously, "What's it gonna be, Sammy? Just come with us," he urged, daring to smile. </p><p>"It's Sam," the young hunter furiously corrected. His mind was whirling. Sam could dive forward, try and knock the gun away. No, he could get hit and that would mean Dean would never make it out. Or worse it could hit Dean. If Nick fired, Sam could dive in front to intercept the shot, but that gun had a couple more rounds left and if Dean took one bullet, just one, it could be fatal with the amount of blood he had already lost. He couldn't talk crazy down, Nick was too far gone. But he had to do something.</p><p>"Sam, go," Dean told him quietly. Sam whirled to look at him in horror. That option hadn't even made the list in his mind, not even the desperate list which Sam was running through his head right now. At his expression, the older Winchester nodded weakly, shaking his head at his little brother, "I know you don't want to, but he's right. I'm gonna slow you down."</p><p>"Dean, stop. No."</p><p>"Listen to your brother, Sam."</p><p><em>"You</em> shut the <em>hell</em> up." </p><p>"Sammy-"</p><p>"No."</p><p>"Five seconds."</p><p>"Sammy, hey, hey-"</p><p>"I said no, Dean."</p><p>"Four."</p><p>"Nick, put the gun down."</p><p>"Three."</p><p>"I SAID PUT THE GUN DOWN!"</p><p>"TWO!"</p><p>"SAM-"</p><p>"WE SAVED YOUR LIFE Y-"</p><p>"DONT THINK I WON'T DO IT-"</p><p>"-OU SON OF A-"</p><p>"ONE-"</p><p>"NO! OKAY! Okay, I'll go- I'll go-" Sam choked out, scrambling to his feet with a yell, praying to God that this crazed excuse of a man didn't just pull the trigger for kicks, and if he did he hopes it sank right into his stomach. But no shot came and Nick watched him warily, waiting for his next move. Sam put up his hands and stepped further in front of his brother, paniced, sucking in a shuddery breath. He pleaded, "Just stop. Don't hurt him."</p><p>Nick lowered the gun in triumph, a relived smile growing on his face. The tension level simmered in the room, at least in Nick's mind, but in Sam's head it was still spiking as he took a step forward, reaching for the backpack on the floor, looking back at Dean who gaze him a gaze filled with a ten minute conversation. </p><p>"Now easy," Nick warned him and Mary hurried to his side, putting a hand on his arm in anger and confusion. </p><p>"Nick, stop, they saved our lives-" she protested. </p><p>"We're gonna die if we don't leave!" Nick spluttered yanking his arm out of her grip, "That thing could be back- don't!" he yelled at Sam who started walking forward a little too quickly with his backpack slung on one arm. The young Winchester put up his hands again, stopping in his tracks, heart pounding. Nick flicked the gun forward demanding, "Now move, you go first. Don't try anything."</p><p>Sam watched as Nick circled him and poked the gun into his back, sending chills up his spine. Dean let out a strangled yell from behind them, trying to stand. "Get the gun off him you bastard," his brother growled, breathing hard. </p><p>"Not a word-" Nick turned fiercely towards the older hunter, trying to compete with his glare and failing. But the minute he aimed the gun at his brother, Sam made his move, spinning and slamming two palms against the side of his wrist as he twists out of the way of the barrel that tries to whip back and fire. He grabs the gun and launches his elbow behind him, Nick's hand going to clutch his face. Sam twists the gun away before he whips it forward in a harsh swing. One well placed hit to the jaw and Nick goes staggering.  </p><p>Sam lunges forward, grabbing his collar and slamming him into the wall, and then headfirst into the window, glass shattering from the force, littering the ground at their feet, practically shoving him outside, the cold wind swarming the room. Nick's face is a bloody mess and he groans at the pain in his back, as Sam maintains his grip unsympathetically. Sam hauls his limp body up and pins him into the wall, arm pressed against his throat as the man winces, weakly pushing the younger hunter away.</p><p>"You listen to me," Sam hisses, face to face with the man. "You're right, I am not leaving without my brother. But I don't have a single problem leaving without you. So this is what's gonna happen. You are not going to talk to me and you especially are not going to talk to my brother. You will not go anyway <em>near</em> my brother. And if you try <em>anything</em> like this again, I will put a bullet straight between your eyes, do you understand me?"</p><p>Nick nods weakly, shaking beneath Sam's grip and he lets him drop, the man landing harshly on his tailbone against the floor.</p><p>The young Winchester goes over to Dean who knows the drill and they loop their arms over each other's shoulders, not even discussing the last two minutes. One look is all they need and it's done, Sam helping the older hunter to his feet with a sharp exhale. </p><p>They glance in distaste at Nick who groans and crawls toward Mary, holding out his hand for her to help him up, trying to stop the stream of blood from coming out of his nose. Mary's eyes are full of anger and disgust and she moves away but he catches her arm. Before Dean and Sam can even blink, she throws a punch, right in his face, sending him to the floor again, yanking her hand from his grasp. "Don't touch me."</p><p>Nick collapses onto his back, gasping, and Mary gives both Winchesters a look. The older hunter responds with a weak thumbs up with a slurred, "Nice punch."</p><p>"Thanks," she says with a ghost of a smile, the best she can muster given current events, zipping up her coat and slinging on her backpack. She tosses Nick's to his which slides halfheartedly across the floor before she pushes the chair out of the way so the two Winchester's have a clear patch to the door. </p><p>Sam props Dean up against the wall as he digs through the backpack, reloading his own flare gun before looking at Dean in question. The older hunter's face falls before he even has the chance to ask him if he thinks he can shoot. Sam nods and tosses the loaded flare gun to Mary who catches it, before slipping the other into his waist band and shouldering Dean's backpack. His bag his tosses to Nick, who had gotten himself off the floor, demanding, "Carry it."</p><p>Nick puts it on without a word. </p><p>"Flare gun?" Mary asks him with the cock of her head, catching the two extra rounds he tossed at her as well, letting them fall in her pocket after tucking the gun into her jeans. </p><p>"Fire kills a Wendigo. You were a pretty good shot," he tells her as he gets beneath Dean's arm again and starts for the door.</p><p>"I've got a concealed carry back home," She admits with a smirk before she winces. "But...I didn't bring it hiking."</p><p>"Wouldn't help," Sam tells her with a bit of a shrug. "Bullets are useless. Fire's the only thing that can kill it, silver can do a little damage. You know the way back to the parking lot?" </p><p>"Yeah," she nods, opening the door for them. Sam and Dean stagger onto the porch and slowly make their way down the steps, Dean leaning heavily on his brother despite not wanting to. And even then he's holding back. </p><p>"And...uh...you can drive us to the hospital, right?" The younger hunter says in question, giving her the wide puppy eyes he was so famously known for according to his older brother. He feels like he shouldn't need to ask, since as far as he could tell, Mary had a good head on her shoulders, but with the way Nick turned out- the bastard trailing behind him- he felt like he needed to make it clear he had somewhere to take his brother.  </p><p>"Of course," she says firmly, giving him a smile as they trudge through the snow. "You saved my life. It's the least I can do."</p><p>Sam was about to say they weren't out of the woods yet, literally, but he bit his lip, holding back the words for morale's sake. The cold wind is familiar, and now that Sam has a second to recognize they're outside, he realized he never felt the transition. He had been too focused on Dean but now he felt the chills, the sting in his legs, the snow in his boots. It had melted a bit more since they had been out here last, but not by much. He hoped Dean couldn't feel it. </p><p>"I know I could totally beat you in snowball fight <em>now</em>," Sam teased his brother as he helped him limp along. </p><p>"I hate you," Dean coughed out a laugh with effort, but Sam felt like he was just trying to humor him. </p><p>The older Winchester was still trying to walk normally and when his hand clenched harder around his shoulder Sam finally snapped, "Dude, I'm here for a reason."</p><p>"I'm fine," Dean insisted, looking over with knit eyebrows. "What's with you and touchy feely crap today?" he muttered. </p><p>"Touchy feely crap-" Sam repeats in disbelief, eyes widening as he scoffs, turning his head before he sees Dean is suppressing a grin, revealing he had been trying to get under his skin. Sam bites his cheek in annoyance, sighing, "You're impossible."</p><p>"Thanks. I try."</p><p>Then Sam adds, "I'm being serious though. Let me help you walk, or I swear to God I'll-" the young Winchester actually hadn't come up with a threat yet, so he hesitates and considers. </p><p>"You'll what?" Dean drawls, rolling his eyes. </p><p>"I'll think of something," Sam assures him. "And you won't like it," he promises. </p><p>Dean mumbled something that was a mix of cuss words and insults about stupid younger siblings but he allowed his brother to take some more of his weight. Mary suppressed a smile next to the two of them. </p>
<hr/><p>Dean's side was killing him. It felt like it was on fire, like hot coals had been raked down the side of his ribs. They had been walking for two hours, and he was staring to feel drowsy. Scratch that, he had been drowsy for a while but now he was starting to loose his ability to conceal it. He felt himself leaning on his brother more than he wanted to but Sam kept him standing and moving forward. </p><p>He, Sam and Mary had talked for a bit, disturbing the calm of the woods as they walked, trudging through an endless untouched blanket of snow. Every step jarred his side and Dean's jaw was aching from how hard he had his teeth clenched. </p><p>They had taken some water breaks, Dean noticing how Sam would always move in between Nick and him. His younger brother slamming him into the window had snapped him out of whatever insanity had a hold on him but now he was just downright terrified, not to mention his face was a mess. The older hunter couldn't help but smirk as the looks his brother gave the man, the same fire present that had originated in Dean's gazes whenever someone dared put their hands or threaten his younger sibling.</p><p>The wind had eased, just a gentle wave that drifted around at this point, blowing some of the higher mounds of snow, sending run away leaves scattering across the surface of the sparkling hills of white. Sam's arm had rarely left his shoulder, his hand clenched in Dean's jacket, constantly scanning for signs of the Wendigo that they could have left in the dust or that could be watching them from the safety of the thick woods.</p><p>The silence was deafening, except for their sounds from their steps, the snow packing together with a crunch. Mary was the one to stop them just as crossed over a hill, sweat dripping down Dean's forehead as Sam muttered encouragement. His side <em>felt </em>awful. Sam's first aid was the best he could have done with what they had and the size of that cut, but comfort was rightly not his concern. The duct tape was sticky and itchy, but Dean was afraid to rub it in fear he would rip the stitches. The tape was practically holding his entire side together, that and the uncomfortable reminder that his skin had been cauterized. He could feel it charred beneath the sticky tape, and the blood loss was getting to him. It was a relief to stop, but it could only mean one thing. </p><p>"What is it, Mary?" Sam asked, slowing to a stop, patting Dean on the shoulder in question. The older hunter nodded, allowing Sam to slip out from under his arm. Nick's eyes were wide as he inched toward the three of them, desperate to look included even if he wasn't just in case anything was watching them. Wendigos would always pick off the weakest of the pack, and right now, his chances were the worst out of all of them, and that included Dean whose side was a mess of flesh barely held together. Clamping his palm around his ribs, Dean turned weakly on his better leg, urging his eyes to focus, straining to get the ringing out of his years.</p><p>He watched as his younger brother tried to mimic Mary's gaze at the section of wood, looking for what she had her eyes on. </p><p>"Eleven-thirty," she whispered quietly to him, not tearing her gaze away. Dean adjusted his lane of sight and squinted. </p><p>"It's twelve forty five," Nick corrected, glancing at his watch, the first time he had spoken in miles. And the last time too. </p><p>"Not the time, you idiot. Shut up," Dean commanded, and Nick whipped around towards him with wide eyes, slinking backward at the order. He stayed quiet.  </p><p>Dean watched his brother's back as Sam turned and narrowed his eyes, searching for movement. He took out the flare gun, leaving it at his side. There was a rustle of leaves closer and that's when he raised it, waving his hand for her to inch backward which Mary did, whipping out her flare gun as well. Sam backed up into his brother, Dean staring forward over his shoulder, hand hovering by Sam's arm. "You see it?" he hissed, blinking to keep his vision from going blurry. </p><p>"No," Sam admitted. "But you rarely do."</p><p>"True."</p><p>His younger brother's brown eyes were narrowed and alert as he scanned the trees for any shadow. Dean's ears strained to hear even the slightest crack of the branch but even his own heartbeat was louder then the world surrounding him. Then he tensed and he reached for the young hunter who was standing in front of him.</p><p>"Big tree on your left, broken branch, top," Dean said sharply, turning Sam's collar so he could see what he was eyeing, the two of them focusing on a shadow under the cover of leaves. </p><p>"Yep, see it," Sam confirmed, looking behind him at Dean who winced but gave him the serious go ahead. Sam nodded and started forward, suddenly stopped by Mary. </p><p>"No. I will. Stay with him," she said firmly, starting forward before he could even argue.</p><p>"Mary-"</p><p>"If it gets you, we all die," Mary shot back firmly. "I'm just being practical." She inched her way towards the tree line, smartly moving her feet forward without stepping so she had a cleared path to turn around and sprint along if it came to that. Mary made it beneath the tree and raised her hand in the sunlight that was peaking through the branches, blinding her view for a split second. </p><p>Sam blinked and saw the shade he had been staring at disappear and he heard her call, "It's gone-"</p><p>The Wendigo pounced and Dean yelled the woman's name. Mary raised and fired, getting batted to the side and she went tumbling backward into the snow. Her flare hit the Wendigo right in the leg and it charred it's skin until it sank it deep into the snow. It's limb steamed and the Wendigo snarled, bounding forward for the two Winchesters with incredible speed. Sam fired, but the Wendigo ducking the shot, lunging for the brothers.</p><p>At the last second, with his free hand, Sam shoved Dean hard into the snow, practically body slamming him. The older hunter went flying and Sam brought his gaze back, arms up to protect himself but it was too late. The Wendigo launched itself at him, gripping his body and throwing him backward, Sam hitting the snow with a yell and not even having a second to catch his breath before the monster bounded on top of him, pressing him further into the packed snow. </p><p>His flare gun was inches from his fingers, half open, the new round just needing to be slid in and he reached with a strained arm but now there was a claw on his shoulder, pinning him, and Sam stared at the inhuman eyes that were inches from his face. The jaws dove down and the young hunter whipped his head to the side as far as he was able, feeling the side of the monster's face nick his ear as it went headfirst into the snow, immediately howling. The Wendigo snarled as it recoiled and pressed it's clawed hand onto the center of Sam's chest in retaliation. The young Winchester would have arched his back in pain if he was able to but he could barely use his chest enough to scream as the sharp hand dug into his skin. He tried not to thrash and make the cuts worse, writhing in pain in the snow, his legs kicking beneath the monster. </p><p>Dean wiped snow from his face, groaning in pain, clutching his side which had started bleeding again from how hard Sam had pushed him. But the scream brought his gaze up and he stared in terror at his brother who was being pinned down with a claw in his chest and shoulder. Sam couldn't reach his flare gun, the Wendigo pressing him deeply into the snow as Sam squirmed under the monster.</p><p>"SAMMY!" he yelled, starting to drag himself forward.</p><p>"Dean!"</p><p>That wasn't Sam, that was Mary, and he spun at the tone of her voice. She had a cut flowing freely down the side of her face from where she was crumpled in the snow but she wound up her arm and threw the flare gun as hard as she could. It landed in the snow and Dean twisted to grasp it, ignoring the screaming pain in his side. He scooped up the gun that she had reloaded, turned onto his stomach, aimed, and fired at the monster on top of his brother who had just raised it's claw to strike, Sam bringing up his now free arm to protect his face, knowing it wouldn't do any good.</p><p>Dean's hands never shook when he fired, espeically not when he was firing to kill the thing hurting his brother. The flare traveled and sank into the monster's side, and a half howl half roar of pain sent chills down his back as it echoed through the woods, birds scrambling to escape it from the trees.</p><p>"SAM, MOVE!" Dean yelled desperately as the Wendigo on top of him caught fire around the chest. </p><p>The younger hunter reacted immediately, ripping the claws from his chest with a choked gasp of pain, twisting beneath the monster, grabbing at the snow to pull himself away. The Wendigo's rib cage became visible with a bright light as it arched it's back and fell forward towards Sam who scrambled through the thick snow, pulling his legs to his chest as it collapsed mere inches away in raging flames. The fire grew as Sam crawled backward, breathing hard, clutching his chest as he stared at the melting pile of bones and skin that charred and steamed, sinking into the snow as it reduced to a burning liquid.</p><p>Dean's vision turned to white spots but he remained staring, already reloading the flare just in case, aimed at the pile of smoking goo that the flames were tenderly licking as it died down. There was an awful noise of defeat that morphed into silence and Sam made eye contact with him. Dean let his head drop, cheek connecting with the snow as he let out a sigh of relief. Sam picked himself up and stumbled his way towards his brother, collapsing in the snow next to him, fisting his jacket as he let out a choked cry.</p><p>"Thanks," he whispered, squeezing his eyes shut in pain.  </p><p>"Look at that. You're still the damsel in distress after all," Dean mumbled, taking a raspy breath. </p><p>"Good shot," Sam told him with a smirk, squinting to look sideways at his brother, the sun shining right in his eyes.</p><p>"It was," Dean agreed cockily, pressing his forearms against the ground and pushing himself slightly upright with a hiss. "It's a job well done. Get it? Because-"</p><p>"Shut up," Sam exhaled sharply with a ghost of a laugh in the snow, breathlessly explaining in annoyance, "You always make that joke. And it's never funny."</p><p>"I think it's funny."</p><p>"Of course you do."</p><p>"You okay?" Dean asked seriously, reaching to grip Sam's collar as he glanced at his young brother's bloody chest and shoulder and hauled him upright by his good shoulder. </p><p>Sam allowed himself a minute of vulnerability as he ducked his head forward, allowing his brother to take over as the role of protector. Dean felt his chest, hands coming away sticky with blood and he cupped Sam's face, making sure his eyes were still focused, which they were. The younger blinked and nodded him off, shuddering as he took a breath and pressed a hand to his chest with a wince, "Worse than it looks."</p><p>"You sure about that?" </p><p>"Totally."</p><p>"Well that's convincing," Dean grumbled. </p><p>Sam gave him a sloppy grin as he forced himself to his feet and grabbed the first aid kit from the bag, "You good? I'm gonna check on Mary."</p><p>"Yeah, go, go," Dean waved him off and watched his brother stagger through the snow, kneeling down by the woman who nodded, exchanging words with Sam, glancing over at the pile of charred Wendigo. They spoke for a bit more and that's when Dean noticed Nick staring at him. He glared and demanded, "The hell you looking at?"</p><p>"Just- just wanted to say thanks. And sorry," he stuttered, turning to again blink at the dead monster a couple yards away in the snow, already getting covered by the blowing wind. </p><p>Dean snorted and gave him a sarcastic nod, "Yeah, don't mention it Nicholas. You aren't gonna try and kill me again, are you?"</p><p>"N-no," the man whispered and Dean saw the look in his eyes had altered slightly. Didn't make up for what he had done, but now the older Winchester could walk easier knowing that there wasn't a crazed murder behind him, just a terrified man who had lost his grip on reality for a little while. Not that he could blame him; Dean wished no one knew about what was lurking in the shadows- usually they tried to keep it that way. Now Nick wouldn't be the same, and he had lost his girlfriend. Sucks to be him. </p><p>Dean never really held grudges against people who tried to kill him. He might have left it at that if it wasn't for one thing. "Nick?"</p><p>"Y-yeah- yes- yes?" the man snapped his gaze to look at Dean fearfully. </p><p>"You threaten, touch, hell, even look at my brother wrong again, and I'll do worse than just put a bullet between your eyes, you got that?" he told him calmly with a smile. It was Dean's job as an older brother to one up his younger sibling, especially when it came to protectiveness. </p><p>The man nodded firmly and Dean gave him a thumbs up before he sank with a huff to recline against the backpack. Sam came over with Mary a couple seconds later and Dean opened an eye, sitting up with the help of his brother. "How's everybody doing, huh? Wasn't that fun?"</p><p>Sam snorted and Mary let out a light laugh. But his brother flexed his shoulder and Dean saw the snow stained red from where his coat was touching, the blood trickling down his side. "Jacket off," Dean demanded, flicking his finger as he snatched the first aid kit from his younger sibling. </p><p>"Dean, it's fine-"</p><p>"Don't argue with me Sam," Dean snapped and the young hunter frowned, rolling his eyes before he unzipped his jacket with a wince. His shirt was covered in patches of blood and he peeled the fabric up to reveal the claw marks. "Nice one, Sammy."</p><p>"Yeah," he mumbled.</p><p>As he took out some gauze, Dean looked sideways at Mary, seeing that her shoulder and the cut on her face were patched up from where the Wendigo had slashed her. "Thank you," he told her honestly with a sincere smile. "You saved my brother's life back there."</p><p>"You took the shot." she said with a smile. "But you're welcome."</p><p>"It took a swing at you, you alright?" he asked.</p><p>She shrugged, chuckling, "I'm alive, so, yes." Her gaze unfocused and narrowed on the heap of steaming monster behind him, a sinking mound in the white snow and she asked slowly, "It's dead, right?"</p><p>"Yeah," Dean responded with a firm nod, pressing another piece of gauze down on Sam's chest before taping it tightly, his brother wincing. Dean's eyes flicked to him and he muttered, "Don't be a baby."</p><p>"Oh, screw you," Sam groaned back, twisting his neck and clenching his teeth as Dean wrapped up his shoulder. "I'm good," the young hunter insisted after a minute, shoving him off gently as he zipped up his jacket. "We need to go. How far to the car Mary?"</p><p>"A couple miles? Maybe a bit more?" she said firmly, pointing in the direction they had been heading. </p><p>Dean groaned, "Well this should be fun. Maybe I should start singing."</p><p>"Maybe I should let you walk by yourself," Sam countered immediately before looping an arm around his brother's good shoulder with the arm that didn't recently have a Wendigo claw in it. Dean smirked as they started forward, grabbing their stuff, the four of them continuing their trek, leaving the dead Wendigo behind.</p><p>Sam kept his subtle gaze on Dean for longer than the older hunter had thought he would. He saw Dean's smile fall into an expression of pain and felt the slight curl of his fingers around his jacket that was clenched tightly in his fist. He saw the slight scrunch of Dean's nose from a suppressed wince and the tense lock of his jaw. Dean's eyes unfocused and then refocused so quick some people would have missed it.</p><p>Sam didn't miss it. </p>
<hr/><p>The white sky hurts his- no that's the snow on the ground. Dean turns his blurry gaze and stares at the blue above him before finally just settling on closing his eyes, until he gets a slap in his face, light enough to be annoying but not hard enough to hurt. "The hell?" he mutters but it comes out slurred.</p><p>"Wake up, Dean. Keep your eyes open."</p><p>That's Sam. He knows that's Sam. He remembers walking. A lot. And then he just stopped walking. He tried to warn his brother, he thinks he did with a slight gasp of his nickname that only Dean could use, and his younger sibling caught him. Dean hadn't felt the stitches break on his side, but he felt the warm blood soaking through his shirt. He just didn't think much about it. When his knees buckled, he didn't think much about that either, just that the snow got closer and closer as he dropped. </p><p>The cold had gotten through his winter coat like last time, but that wasn't what was slowing him down. He was just...drained. He tried to force himself to keep standing but his adrenaline was non existent. He felt Sam carrying him- heard his voice like he was underwater, muttering encouragement, but that was a fuzzy memory. Now he was on his back, Dean realized, and time had clearly passed because it wasn't as bright out. He knew that because the snow was a darker shade, but it still hurt his eyes when looking at it. So he closed his eyes for a bit. Breathing hurt too, but he knew he had to keep doing that. </p><p>There was a hand on his shoulder, and muffled voices echoed in front of him. God, shut up, he thought. A migraine was ripping through his skull and he screwed up his face with a shudder.</p><p>"Yes, I'm with my brother and two hikers. We got to a parking lot but the road is blocked-" That was Sam again. On the phone? That means they had service. That meant they were by the parking lot. Drive the car, Dean thought sulkily. He didn't need an ambulance. Then again, Dean couldn't really feel the pain of his wound at this point, so maybe he did. </p><p>Two hikers. Nick and Mary. Yep. Dean was only thinking because he knew that's what Sam would tell him to do. Sam would say stay awake- he'd yell at him, and Dean was not in the mood to be yelled at so he just decided to do it before it got to that.</p><p>"It's cleared? Yes. Yes, that's exactly where we are. We can meet you... Thank you- yes, he's losing a lot of blood- please hurry-"</p><p>More muffled voices after that; Dean gave up straining to hear. He felt his brother loop his arm around his shoulder and lift him, and he nearly passed out again, feet skipping against the ground before he felt them stumble over something massive. Sam exhaled sharply, more sounds that came from somewhere underwater it sounded like, and then the older hunter felt himself being lowered to the ground again, laying in the snow.</p><p>Dean's chest felt warm- warm and sticky, and there was pressure on it. It hurt, he thought stubbornly. The older Winchester blinked and looked down, seeing Sam's bloody palm pressed against against his side. He frowned at his brother before he focused as much as he could on the red liquid tumbling over Sam's fingers, grumbling, "You're bleeding."</p><p>"It's your blood, genius," Sam shot back, grabbing another patch of gauze and pressing it into the pool where it dissapeared into the sea of red, his younger sibling cursing violently, something very unusual for Sam. </p><p>Huh, Dean thought. He's pissed. Usually he liked pissing Sam off; he did it a lot and always enjoyed the reactions but the anger in his brother's eyes wasn't lighthearted. It was pure and it was built on a fear that Dean didn't like to see in his younger sibling's gaze. "Oh," was what he said in response, before he set his head back down in the snow, the pain started to float away and with it his conscious.</p><p>"Hey- stay with me," Sam demanded in a panic.</p><p>"You've got to get Baby," Dean mumbled clearly, swallowing with a wince as he tried to shift his position in the snow, but wasn't able to.</p><p>"Really, Dean?" Sam demanded incredulously.</p><p>Dean opened and eye and told him firmly, "Her engine can't be frozen for this long-"</p><p>Sam lets out a low chuckle and he squeezes his brother's good shoulder. "Okay. Okay, I'll get her."</p><p>"You better. And you better take care of her, or I'll haunt you," Dean threatened with a slight smirk, the best he could manage.</p><p>"That's not funny. You're not dying," Sam immediately countered, snapping his narrowed gaze towards him. </p><p>"Mhm," Dean mumbled back, satisfied. He closed his eyes with a shaky exhale, feeling his side suddenly surge with another wave of blood. Sam cursed in a panic before he suddenly ripped off his heavy jacket and then unzipped his light one, folding it up before pressing it against Dean's side, successfully soaking up the blood and trying to stem the flow. Then he shrugged his heavy jacket back on with one hand to keep his hand clasped. </p><p>"You need your coat, stupid," Dean mumbled in annoyance. He wasn't sure if the words came out as he planned but he knew Sam understood what he was saying even if he only got out 'coat' and 'stupid'. </p><p>His younger sibling gave him an incredulous look, or at least Dean thinks he did, he can't really see very well. The tone of his voice confirms it, "Yeah, and you need to not bleed out, stupid."</p><p>"Eh," Dean mumbled and Sam shook his head, slapping his cheek again to get him to open his eyes, which he did, narrowing them with a glare. "Stop hitting me," he said as loud as he could.</p><p>"Then stop checking out!" Sam said in retaliation.</p><p>"Don't tell me what to do," Dean snarled fiercely, but it came out as a low mumble. "I tell you what to do. I'm older."</p><p>"Yeah, you're older," Sam agreed instantly, which was also unusual. It made Dean suspicious as his younger sibling urged, "If you pass out then who's gonna boss me around, huh?"</p><p>Tempting. Really tempting.</p><p>Dean decided to try and stay awake longer. A couple minutes passed and Sam got more agitated, checking over his shoulder, cursing more often, the voices slowly becoming muffled. That was weird. Dean's eyesight was permanently blurry now, and he felt tired, like his energy was being sucked from his body and into Sam's jacket which was pressed against his side, red veins traveling up the cotton, turning the entire piece of fabric dark crimson. That was weird too. His limbs felt like they were weighing more and more with every second that went by, which was just plain exhausting. Keeping his eyes open was more of a torture than an annoyance at this point. Dean felt himself sinking in his own body no matter how hard he tried to stop it. Blood loss could do that, he thought.</p><p>There came a point where he couldn't hear Sam very well anymore. He could feel his brother's hand clench against his good shoulder and slip to clasp behind his neck, shaking him gently. He heard him one last time, his voice panicked, "Dean! Stay with me, man. Wake up! Hey- nonono-"</p><p>Dean's eyes rolled up into the back of his head.</p><p>Lights- bright ones- blue and red and white- and shouts, and then suddenly ground beneath him moved, and that was all he saw and felt before he was sucked back into the void of darkness. Dean passed out again, and when his eyelids fluttered open he saw he was inside an ambulance. The lights above him were spinning and outrageously bright, making him wince as he groaned with pain, trying to breathe through went felt like blood-filled lungs.</p><p>"Dean!" </p><p>The older hunter weakly turned his head and saw Sam stretched on a stretcher next to him fighting off the paramedic trying to hold him back. "Is he okay?" the young Winchester yelled at the man, fighting past his arms, covered in blood, a mix of his own and Dean's. </p><p>"Sir I need you to-"</p><p>"Answer my question! Is he okay!"</p><p>"S-my-" Dean mumbled and at the sound of his voice, the young Winchester thrashed harder, getting ultimately wrestled down onto the bed, exhausted, slamming his head into the pillow behind him with a yell of exasperation. </p><p>"My partner's got him, sir."</p><p>"That's my brother," Sam cried out weakly.</p><p>"I need you to stay still before your body goes into shock-"</p><p>Dean slipped again miserably, feeling an oxygen mask pressed to his face, his side being examined. He felt like he wanted to throw up but didn't have the strength to so his stomach just churned as his eyelids fluttered, head falling to the side facing his younger brother. His eyes were closed but Dean felt like he was still spinning, the feeling of the wind slamming into him through a memory, feeling the Wendigo's raking against his side, tearing through his skin. Turning it into thread. A bunch of thread.</p><p>
  <em>"Male, hiker, early thirties. Animal attack, major wounds along side, extreme blood loss."</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>"Applying PASG."</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>"Tachycardia in the 160's and rising-"</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>"Vasoconstriction- keep him stable."</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>"Pulling in in 10 minutes. Clear the Emergency entrance, prep surgery." </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>"DEAN!"</em>
</p>
<hr/><p>Dean gasped as his eyes flew open and he groaned, gripping his side. Pain flared, rippling throughout his entire body and it woke him up instantly as everything spiraled back to him in a violent crash, hands gripping the sheets of the bed as he pushed himself upright. He jumped, looking sideways at the sudden movement. His eyes fall on his younger brother who had been sitting on the chair next to him. Sam now surged forward, clasping his arm and putting a palm flat against his chest. </p><p>"Hey, hey- Dean?" he squeezes his shoulder with a huge grin, eyes bright, feeling his older brother relax under his grip. </p><p>Dean's green eyes focus and clear and he exhales sharply with a swallowed wince, whispering, "Hey."</p><p>"Hey," Sam says again, smiling. "How are you feeling?"</p><p>"Peachy," Dean lied with a groan, leaning his head back against the pillow and muttering, "What the hell happened?"</p><p>"What do you remember?" Sam asked slowly, getting the A okay to let go of his brother as he reached behind him and pulled the chair closer, the metal scraping against the floor. He sinks down in it and leans forward. </p><p>"Not much."</p><p>Sam nods and runs a hand through his hair to untangle his long bangs, "Well you dropped about five minutes before the parking lot. You were in and out by the time we got there. Storm tore up that section though, blocked off the road- bunch of trees fell, made it impossible to get the car out. But we had cell service so I called an ambulance and we met it by one of the cleared sections. You..." his face fell and his gaze lowered as he mumbled, "you lost a lot of blood."</p><p>"Oh yeah, I was gushing," Dean nods, remembering the unpleasant feeling. "I remember you yelling at the poor paramedics," he snorted then, trying to lighten the somber mood, a smirk playing on his face. </p><p>Sam looked down, scratching his neck, "I didn't yell at them."</p><p>"Yes you did," Dean chuckled at the denial before he frowned. "Please tell me you got Baby."</p><p>The young Winchester smiles and stands, Dean's gaze following him as he walked over to the window and opened the curtains. Dean hissed at the sunlight pouring in, but it was well worth it when it revealed the beautiful black Impala sitting in the parking spot straight ahead. Dean relaxed, and Sam let the curtains fall, digging Dean's keys out of his pocket and tossing them on top of his brother's hospital bed. </p><p>"I got someone to drive Mary's car out there with me and I went and got it."</p><p>"They let you?" Dean asked in disbelief; realizing that his brother's condition was more serious that Sam was letting on and that there was no way the doctors would have let him go without a fight.</p><p>"Not at first. But I insisted. Loudly," Sam shrugged. "I went and got it- and the duffles I stowed in a ditch so that the paramedics wouldn't ask questions. Took me forever to get it started though, the engine was frosted over and it was rough ride through a foot of snow but we made it," Sam grumbled in annoyance. </p><p>"Oh, poor you," Dean rolled his eyes, curling his fist around the silver keys. Then he frowned, "Mary and Nick-"</p><p>"They rode in the front of the ambulance. Mary's got her cut stitched up, she's allowed to leave today. Nick got treated for shock and a concussion, they kept him because of his mental state," Sam muttered. "I left out the part where he threatened you with a gun, but the cops are coming back to get my full statement so I could add it?" Sam asked, looking at his brother to make the decision. </p><p>Dean shrugged, "Don't bother, Sammy. The bastard was just freaked."</p><p>"Yeah well what if he had shot you?" Sam demanded furiously.</p><p>"You're acting like he didn't threaten you first," Dean snorted in disbelief. "He was out of his mind, Sam. He apologized to me while you were helping Mary. He won't be bothering us. If it's personal and you want to mention it, go for it, but don't do it just because he put a gun to me. That happens on the daily, I'm used to it."</p><p>"Fine," Sam said after fuming for a bit. He sounded more like he just didn't want any more trouble and not that he forgave the man, but Dean wasn't about to complain.</p><p>He'd never tell Sam but he was worried about him. The guy was exhausted, he could tell, he could see it in his eyes, and in the dark circles beneath them. That was another thing. Dean was starting to put everything together and he realized too many events happened in just the span of a day. With creased eyebrows and a frown he asked hesitantly, "How long have I-"</p><p>"A little over two days," Sam winced, trying for a smile as he sank back down in the metal chair. "You went into surgery the minute you got here, they stitched up your side and then kept you under for a bit. Then it was just a waiting game and now...you're awake." His voice didn't give anything away but his gaze did and Dean wished he had woken up sooner when he saw the pained relief in his brother's eyes. </p><p>"Wow, two days of you sitting by my bedside crying your eyes out and saying a bunch of girly stuff. Sorry I missed it," he responded to keep their spirits light, but there was underlying compassion that he was sure Sam noticed. </p><p>His brother shook his head with a smile, "Don't kid yourself. I took care of the insurance and the police statements," Sam said, stiffing a yawn, rubbing his eye. </p><p>"Wow, all without me?" Dean teased. "You're growing up."</p><p>Sam shot him a look and huffed, "Shut up."</p><p>The older Winchester narrowed his eyes at his younger brother when his smile drifted away and moved his gaze to his chest and shoulder, noticing how Sam was subconsciously cradling it on his lap as he leaned forward. "How about you? They patch you up okay?"</p><p>"Yeah, and gave me some meds. I checked myself out of the room and moved in here. They complained at first but a lot of people got hurt during this storm so they weren't about to argue about getting another open room. I also might have threatened," he admits, wringing his hands and looking up at Dean weakly. </p><p>"Where'd you sleep?" Dean demanded, looking around the room for a couch or something. Sam blinked and shifted uncomfortably in the chair and the older hunter's face fell as he shook his head as he looked at the metal piece of crap in disbelief before muttering, "Son of a- you're an idiot, Sam."</p><p>"Thanks," Sam grinned in response before he adds, "By the way, Mary and Nick both saw that grizzly that attacked us. You and I were hiking when the storm hit, and we ran into the two of them. The bear was huge, we've never seen anything like it. Wildlife services are gonna go check out the cabins and tracks when the snow melts a little."</p><p>"Grizzly," Dean nods with a sigh, "Right. And we're-" he asked slowly, asking which alibi his brother used. </p><p>"Burkovitz," Sam confirmed with a stretch, clutching his chest as he eased himself back to a comfortable position, feeling his older brother's eyes on him. "I'm good."</p><p>"Yeah, okay," he sighed, ignoring his brother's attempts to convince him. He had saw those claws go deep into Sam's chest.</p><p>"You're the one who collapsed in my arms," Sam countered before adding, "I had to carry you a half a mile." </p><p>Dean's gaze hardened and he shot back, "At least I gave you a warning. You just dropped and I had to drag you a mile too. So now we're even."</p><p>"Fine," Sam rolled his eyes. </p><p>"And now <em>you're </em>making it sound like I fainted. I was bleeding out, my side was torn up by the bastard and I walked like ten miles with it. I'm awesome," he sniffed in retaliation. </p><p>"Yeah, okay, princess," Sam snorted and Dean shook his head, throwing one of the extra pillows at him weakly, unable to wind up because of his bad arm. It hit the edge of the bed limply and tumbled off. "Oh wow, beautiful throw," Sam applauded him sarcastically. </p><p>"I'll go back to sleep for another two days if you're just gonna bully me in my serious condition," Dean told him, milking his injuries and letting out a half faked groan of pain. </p><p>"Oh, shut up," Sam laughed with a shake of his head. Then he looked up and his tone was different as he admitted with a small ghost of a smile, "I'm glad you're okay."</p><p>Dean nodded, sobering his expression, "Yeah, that was a close one. But hey, in the end, we killed the monster, saved the people, all in a days work. Happy Vacation by the way. Did you have fun?"</p><p>"If that was a vacation, I never want to take one again," Sam muttered, shaking his head. </p><p>Dean snorted in agreement, "Here, here. And I think we should stay away from snow for a while. Maybe go to Florida. Get some sun?"</p><p>"You act like you're ready to leave," Sam laughed at him.</p><p>Dean shrugged as he nodded, telling him, "I'll be out of here soon and we'll be back on the road."</p><p>"Doctor says a week. At least," Sam said with a wince. </p><p>"Well screw him," Dean groaned, not wanting to stay here for that long. He looked around the room in distaste, adding glumly, "The nurses aren't even hot."</p><p>"You literally just woke up."</p><p>"I have a feeling."</p><p>"Well tough," Sam said unsympathetically, "I say you're staying put at least two more days."</p><p>"Are you seriously telling me what to do now?" the older Winchester demanded. </p><p>"You're not in any condition to put me in a headlock, so for now, yeah," Sam said firmly, raising his eyebrows. </p><p>Dean shot him a look and grumbled, "Whatever. You want to watch some TV?"</p><p>"Sure," Sam made a face as he put his feet up on Dean's bed and leaned back in his chair with a sucked in breath. </p><p>Dean looked down at his brother's shoes and demanded, "Did I say you could put your feet up on my bed?"</p><p>"Bite me," Sam responded as he tossed the remote to his older brother who turned it on and started flipping through the channels.</p><p>"I can't believe I woke up. I had two days without my annoying little brother, it was so peaceful," Dean mumbled in annoyance, looking over to see the grin spreading on Sam's face. He settled on a channel and leaned back against the pillows, taking a deep breath before he muttered, "Don't say anything sappy after this, but I'm glad you're okay too."</p><p>Sam looked over with a grin that started out as compassionate and then turned mischievous and he spoke innocently, "Maybe a Meg Ryan movie is on-"</p><p>"I said no chick flicks," Dean growled, shaking his head. "And you wonder why I can't say anything nice to you."</p><p>"So that's the reason," Sam turned to him, biting his lip and shrugging as much as he could with his hurt arm, "I thought you just didn't like me."</p><p>Dean cocked his head, "That too."</p><p>"My feelings are hurt now," Sam told him, turning back to face the TV which was hung on the wall by the door.</p><p>"Sucks," the older Winchester snorted, settling down against the pillows some more to get comfortable.</p><p>"How sweet," Sam muttered.</p><p>"I will hit you with the remote," Dean threatened, flicking his gaze towards his younger sibling, gripping the plastic piece.</p><p>Sam shot him a grin and taunted, "You sure you can throw it that far?"</p><p>"Left handed."</p><p>Sam laughed loudly, "Yeah, I think I'm safe. Your left hand is trash."</p><p>"That's it. Get out," Dean flicked his head to the door.</p><p>"Funny," Sam chuckled, sliding into a more comfortable position in his chair. </p><p>"You gonna talk through the whole movie?" Dean motioned to the TV. "Be quiet."</p><p>"You be quiet."</p><p>"You be quiet."</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Tadaaaaaaaaa i didnt know how to end it so when in doubt i just write dialogue. Hope that was satisfactory XD what a rollercoaster. I feel like it would have been smoother in one whole thing but hey its fine. Next one is super funny haha ive been wanting to do it for a while....i wont give anything away tho lol<br/>Stay healthy and good luck with everything life related! Please drop a comment or kudos and btw thank you for all the hits??? 1.5k is insane &lt;3<br/>New chapter soon!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. An Accidental Accident</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hello. Awesome. People.<br/>I- nope. I cant even explain this except by saying this very well may be....my fav thing ive ever written. So let me set the scene to make this the best reading experience XD so this is set mid season 5....you've gotta really picture the boys tho- i found myself laughing so hard whenever i envisioned it my head so yeah, theres a tip for ya. If you loved drunk sam from playthings, drugged sam from sam interrupted, clumsy sam from bad day at black rock, and then sleep deprived/out of whack idk what was up w him sam from the great escapist (that ep where they meet megatron- i mean metratron in season 8)....this is like all of those combined and a million times worse. This is so freaking chaotic im sorry for what youre about to read haha<br/>Enjoy XD</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Woooo! Dang, that felt good," Dean announced happily, swinging the door open in triumph as he sauntered in with his arms spread out, bloody machete in his hand. </p><p>"Yeah," Sam agreed, following him inside, watching his brother with a smirk. He shook his head as he took the key out of the door from where Dean had left it and locked it behind them once he closed it. </p><p>Dean turned around with a wide grin and exclaimed, "We haven't had a cut and dry hunt like that in, I don't know, forever?"</p><p>"You're not wrong."</p><p>"Obviously."</p><p>"Hey not on the-" Sam winced as his older brother dropped the blood crusted weapon with a clatter onto the table. Dean ignored him, kicking off his shoes before flopping down onto mattress on his back, Sam spluttering, "And not on the- for the love of God, Dean."</p><p>"What?" the older demanded furiously, sitting up. </p><p>"Oh, I don't know, maybe you're covered in guts," Sam drawled sarcastically, motioning to his red stained jacket. The jeans were okay, but the jacket was disgusting. In fact, it should be burned, Sam thought, dropping his bag down on the ground and pushing his and his brother's shoes near the wall by the front door. </p><p>"Eh," Dean looked himself over and shrugged before he ran a hand through his hair, picking out a piece of...something, and leaning forward to smear it on Sam's comforter just to piss him off. He got the classic RBF and he grinned back at his brother before he nodded forward, "How's your leg? You landed weird once."</p><p>"It's fine," Sam shrugged with a dismissive wave, eyebrows knit as he tried to play it off.</p><p>Dean's gaze followed him and he mumbled, "Okay well you either got out of the car impersonating one of those zombies from walking dead or you hurt it."</p><p>Sam looked down and flexed his knee, easing his weight on and off it with only a slight wince. He changed his statement with the roll of his eyes, "I'll <em>be</em> fine. I'll take some Tylenol before I go to bed and it'll be good by the morning."</p><p>Dean shrugged; Tylenol was enough to satisfy his older brother instincts. "Okay." He rubbed his hands and wondered, "How many hunts is that in a week, huh? Like three? That's got to be a new record."</p><p>Sam raised an eyebrow with a snort, "You keep a record?"</p><p>"Is the sky blue?" Dean mumbled, looking at him weird.</p><p>Sam made a face, "Well technically it's only seen as blue because the light travels in smaller waves which scatters the-"</p><p>"Shut up, nerd," the older Winchester reprimands him in annoyance. "The answer is yes. And right now, three is the score to beat."</p><p>"Four if we tackle this next one I found," Sam told him, Dean's eyes widening as he pulled out his phone to show him the text he had gotten from a hunter. He scrolled through a couple of articles sent, rubbing his arm, "I was going through these on the ride back. People get to the emergency room, die shortly after with low levels of brain fluid and high levels of dopamine. Medical phenomenon, the doctor is calling it, all sent to the same hospital one town over," the younger hunter said, slipping his phone back into his pocket after Dean nodded.</p><p>"High levels of dopamine, that screams Wraith," Dean said simply, raising a palm.</p><p>Sam nodded, "Exactly. And, sure enough, there's an unknown entrance wound in each of their heads."</p><p>"Definitely wraith. Dang, monsters are getting sloppy this week!" the older hunter clasped his hands. "I'm in," he points at him happily before he pauses and adds, "Just...after tonight. We've got two days to crack this case and we can't wear ourselves down. It's nearing nine," he checked his watch. "We'll get a start in the morning. Three hunts is cause for celebration. I'm going for a beer run," he announced, breaking into a smile as he got up off the bed and started for the door. </p><p>"Dean," Sam stopped him with a shake of his head, waiting for his brother to realize why he couldn't just walk outside and go to the store. </p><p>"Yep?" Dean turned on his heel, snagging his car keys and frowning. "What, you want me to get you some smoothie fruity vegetable liquid crap? Because that's a hard no-"</p><p>"No, I'm just saying the general public usually doesn't react well to people who walk around covered head to toe with blood, but hey, be my guest," Sam laughed in amusement. </p><p>"You're sarcastic today, cut it out," Dean scoffed before he looked down and cursed in despair, trying to wipe the dried blood off his coat to no avail. He took a second to pause before he grinned and shrugged off his jacket, flipping it inside out and putting it back on despite Sam's protests. It looked ridiculous but it hid the blood and Dean looked a little too proud of himself. "Yeah? What do you think?"</p><p>"Genius," Sam told his sarcastically, giving him a disapproving glance. Dean gave him a thumbs up before he carded his fingers through his hair, scrunching up his nose as he was met with patches plastered together with even more blood and dirt. The older Winchester frowned, before grabbing a hat from the hook.</p><p>"That's mine!" Sam called in annoyance. </p><p>"I know it is," Dean shouted back, slamming it firmly down on his head and walking out the door.</p><p>Sam groaned audibly so that his brother could hear him before he decided that he might as well take a shower while he could. About fifteen minutes later, he was free of the layered grime he had picked up from beheading the vamps. He had changed into a new pair of clothes, sliding a hand over his face, tossing the towel to the side that he had used to rub his wet hair. Sam opened up his book and sat down on his bed, reading about two chapters before it was hell on his eyes. The windows had been open to let in cracks of sunlight but the sun had since gone down, darkening the room which only had a small and dim light by the door. </p><p>Sam rubbed his eyes and swung his legs over the edge of the bed, hissing in pain, trying to massage the knot right above his left knee which had turned slightly black and blue. The intention for getting up was to turn on the light, since the room had gotten increasing darker, but then his phone buzzed. </p><p>
  <strong>&gt;Dean</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>Home in 20. Got sidetracked ;) </strong>
</p><p>The young hunter rolled his eyes, knowing what that familiar phrase entailed. He wrote back with a smirk and then clicked the phone off, turning towards the lamp now, but it was the duffel bag that caught his eye. Sam walked a couple feet and stooped instead, not wanting to make the trek across the room twice. Lazy, he knew, but he didn't care because of the annoying ache in his knee. He knelt by the bag and rummaged through it, squinting in the darkness, grabbing the orange medicine bottle and groped blindly for the water bottle he kept on his desk. Swallowing the few painkillers he had poured into his palm, he stood slowly, wincing at the throbbing of his leg. Feeling the pills go down his throat, he took another swig of water before he tossed the medicine bottle that he had been palming back into the bag and set the water on the desk, screwing the top back on. </p><p>Taking a deep breath, Sam clicked on the light and then made his way back over to his bed, grabbing his book and phone and settling down atop the covers with his head against the headboard. He fell asleep about ten minutes later as the words became fuzzy and he dozed off, head nodding to his chest. </p><p>"Hey Sammy, beers and a phone number later-" Dean walked in grinning shortly after that and groaned in annoyance once he saw his brother asleep. "Sam?" he called, getting no response. Dean rolled his eyes, locking the door and muttering, "This is what I get for leaving you for five minutes, grandma."</p><p>He walked over, slipping the piece of paper that had the name Kathy scrawled on it into his pocket. Then he grabbed Sam's book from his chest, marking the page because he knew his brother would get all pissy if he didn't, leaving it on the bedside table. Dean opened a beer for himself, putting the rest in the mini fridge. After a hot shower, he went on Sam's computer for a while since he knew he wouldn't get caught; he had pushed his brother roughly and hadn't even gotten more then a sharper inhale. </p><p>Then he went through the guns and cleaned them all. There were probably a few insults aimed at his sleeping younger sibling about how Sam had fallen asleep on purpose so Dean was stuck cleaning all the weapons. After another beer, Dean called it a night and turned off the lamp, settling under his covers. Then he looked over and cussed, making a big show of kicking off the sheets, sliding out of bed and going over to Sam, yanking the blankets out from under his brother, covering him up. Sam rolled over, his bangs falling over his eyes, pulling the comforter to his chin.  </p><p>"You're lucky I'm the best big brother," Dean grumbled sharply with a frown, getting back in bed where it seemed to be less warm then before. Dean rolled onto his side and bunched the pillow up by his head. A couple minutes later, he was asleep as well. </p>
<hr/><p>The older Winchester opens one eye the next morning since consciousness refused to leave him alone. Half his head up from where it was buried in his pillow, he yawned, glancing at the clock and groaning at the blurry red numbers. Dean lifts himself onto his forearms and turns to see Sam on his back on his bed with a book in his hand, facing the other way so his feet are at the headboard, bouncing his heels lightly which rocks the wood.</p><p>Dean frowns, "So it's go to bed early, wake up early with you, huh?"</p><p>"Yeah, I've been awake for a long, long, <em>long</em> time."</p><p>Maybe it was his drowsiness that prevented him from recognizing the oddity of his brother's words. Dean yawns again, wider this time and rubs his eyes, "Oh really? Working on the case?"</p><p>"Nope!"</p><p>Okay, that hit a nerve. That was a little too cheery for Sam's normal voice. Dean turned, focusing on his brother, and that's when he realizes the book is right side up from his point of view, but not for his younger sibling. Dean cocks his head and after a second of deliberation, decides to ask, "Sammy?"</p><p>The young hunter's eyes narrow in concentration and his tongue sticks out with effort as he responded distractedly, "Yep."</p><p>"Whatcha doing there?" Dean asked, unable to mask the sarcasm dripping off his tone but Sam doesn't seem to notice.</p><p>"I can read upside down," Sam said proudly. "I'm talented. Ambidextrous- no wait, that's hands. What's it called when you can read upside down and normal side down? I'm that." Dean blinked before he nodded slowly in confusion, lips pursed. "Now salsa you mittens," Sam read confidently before he scrunches up his nose. </p><p>"You can't read upside down," Dean corrects.</p><p>"I can't read upside down," Sam announces in agreement. He lets out a long sigh and tosses the book down on the covers before he twists suddenly, making Dean jump. His older brother watches in confusion as he grasps sloppily for his phone on the bedside table, straining to reach it from his spot on the bed.</p><p>"Woah- woah, woah-" Dean's warning about how close he was to the edge came too late and Sam slipped off, tumbling to the floor in a mess of flailing limbs, landing flat on his stomach with a groan. Dean stares at him on the ground.</p><p>Grumbling, Sam looks up at him in confusion, his eyes wide. "That hurt," he told his brother in shock. </p><p>"I bet it did," Dean snorted as the young hunter picked himself up off the floor, brushing off his pants. Dean narrows his eyes at him as Sam sighs again and rubs a clumsy hand in his hair, seemingly forgetting about the phone he had been reaching for. Dean finally has to ask, "What's up with you?"</p><p>Sam spins to face him a little too fast, grasping the side of the table to steady himself as he makes a face, "Huh? Me? What?" </p><p>"What's up?" Dean repeats slowly. He knows his brother like the back of his hand, but he wouldn't even need to to realize something was off.  </p><p>"The sky," Sam grinned, proving his point and giggling at his own joke with a shake of his head. Dean frowns; it's too early for puns. His brother misinterprets his frown as an 'i don't get it' face and begins dissecting his joke. "The sky is up," Sam explained further with a raised eyebrow and a small scoff. Then he pauses with a frown, finding a flaw, "Unless you were upside down like when I was reading, which would mean the ground was-"</p><p>"Sam, what the hell?" Dean sat flatly, voice raising in exasperation. If this was a prank, he wanted it to be over. As much as he hated to say it, he liked normal Sam much better than...whatever this was.</p><p>"What?" Sam countered furiously, wide eyes confused and getting angry with his brother's tone. "What?" he said again, feeling the word in his mouth as the anger suddenly dissolved into a smirk. "What's your problem, <em>dude</em>?" Then he snickers a bit at his voice inflection. </p><p>There's silence once the younger hunter is done giggling which takes a while.</p><p>Dean stares at Sam.</p><p>Sam stares at Dean.</p><p>The older hunter dares to make an educated guess. "Are you-" he paused, contemplating his entire life for a second before he makes out, "Are you high?" He looks at his brother who is still staring at him without blinking and after waiting a second for an answer and getting silence, he snaps his fingers in front of Sam's face with a sharp, "Sammy!"</p><p>"What'd you do that for? That's cheating!" Sam groans, shoulders slumping in annoyance. </p><p>Dean runs his hand through his hair as a range of emotions flood through him, controlling his tone as he asks for probably the seventh time this morning, "What?"</p><p>"I- I thought we were having a staring contest," Sam huffs, spreading his hands out before letting them flop to his sides as he widens his eyes in annoyance and raises his palms in surrender. "Clearly not. My bad, my bad. My. Bad."</p><p>"You're high," Dean confirmed in disbelief, staring at his younger sibling with a straight face. "Oh my God, you're high." Then he laughed a bit, trying to decide if this was funny or downright terrifying. Maybe both.</p><p>"I'm..." Sam cocks his head. He looks sideways and pats the bed, "I'm sitting down, I'm not that high-"</p><p>"No, not-" Dean groans and presses a hand to the bridge of his nose. "You're stoned, Sam. Blazed. On drugs. High," he waves his hand as if that will help with the explanation. It only succeeds in distracting his brother and Dean twists to sit on his bed with his legs hanging off the side so he can face Sam in an attempt to have a serious conversation and figure out what the <em>hell </em>happened. "How? When?" he asked firmly.</p><p>"Where? What? Why?" Sam blurts out with a low chuckle. </p><p>"Yeah, that's what I want to know. Did you leave the room last night?" Dean questions seriously.  </p><p>"I'm tall," Sam gasped, out of the blue, raising his shoulders and straightening his back. "I'm really tall," he craned his neck up and put his hand above his head as if to measure. </p><p>"Congratulations," Dean says with a sigh, "Did you leav-"</p><p>"Why aren't you tall?" Sam cocked his head, staring at his brother with a sympathetic gaze. "Look! I am! And we're brothers!" Leaning forward, trying to keep his hand steady, he passes his palm over Dean's head in line with the height he had taken a second earlier, as if proving he was taller. "See?" Sam motions to his palm which is hovering above Dean's spiked bedhead.</p><p>Dean whacks his arm away, rubbing his hand over his face and muttering, "You've got to be kidding me-"</p><p>"Was I always this tall?" Sam asks him sincerely, eyes widening.</p><p>Dean blinks, "N-no, you decided to grow a couple inches in college. Really pissed me off."</p><p>"Okay, so that's why I'm tall. Why are <em>you</em> not tall though?" Sam asks him, clasping his hands philosophically. When Dean doesn't answer, Sam does for him. "It's your bow legs," the young hunter confirms with pursed lips, reaching and patting Dean's knee. "I'm sorry."</p><p>"Shut up- get off-" Dean twists away before he grabs his brother's shoulders. "Look at me. Did you leave the room last night, Sam, yes or no?"</p><p>"No," Sam shakes his head.</p><p>"Sam-"</p><p>"No! No. I did <em>not! </em>Oh hi Mark," Sam giggles. Dean recoils; if he was quoting 'The Room', things were really bad. Sam suddenly stretches to break Dean's hold on his shoulders like he was a two year old. The older hunter lets him go in exasperation as his younger sibling falls back onto his bed with a long sigh, before bolting straight up with a gasp, "I just had the best idea-"</p><p>"Sam-"</p><p>"We should have a movie," he decides thoughtfully. "About us! Or a show-"</p><p>"Sam, what did you do last night? When I left, what did you do?" Dean asks loudly, getting his brother's attention and giving him an encouraging nod.</p><p>The younger Winchester concentrates with a serious expression, putting his hands out, listing things off his fingers, "I took a shower. I uhhhhh, waited for you to get home but then you said you got," he made dramatic air quotes, "<em>sidetracked</em>. Probably with a girl. So I was like okay, I'm going to read, but then it was dark because the sun went down and then I took some Tylenol and then I guess I went to sleep," Sam said, scratching his head and adding, "because then I woke up and you can't wake up unless you were asleep first."</p><p>"Okay, Einstein," Dean mumbled.</p><p>"No, I'm Sam," the young hunter corrected, giving him a look of concern. "Did you forget my name?" Oh God, there came the puppy eyes.</p><p>"I know your name," Dean assured him, because at this point, he wouldn't be surprised if Sam started crying. His younger brother started rambling about something else and the older Winchester promptly tuned him out, running Sam's story of the literal <em>forty minutes he left him alone</em> over again in his head. His eyes suddenly widen at the mention of the painkillers and he interrupts him.</p><p>"And that's why I think that we should listen to that hook handed dude and put bungee cords-"</p><p>"Tylenol. You took Tylenol you said. What did you take?" Dean asked urgently. </p><p>"And you think <em>I'm </em>high," Sam hoots with a cackle, rubbing his eye with the back of his fist. "<em>Tylenol</em>, Dean," he slurs sarcastically with a head movement radiating peak Winchester sass. He looks sideways with a chuckle, pointing at Dean like, 'can you believe this guy' before realizing no one was sitting next to him. Sam straightens up in shock, his head whipping around as he pushes his bangs from his eyes. "Woahhhh," he whispered.</p><p>"Clearly you didn't take Tylenol," Dean snorts, getting to his feet and shuffling through their shared duffel that had the first aid kit and weapons. He yanks out two bottles, one normal Tylenol, and one heavy dose painkillers for serious injuries, only used in emergencies. He holds them up for his brother and asks, "Which one?"</p><p>"Theeeeeee," Sam squints and leans forward after sitting up, nearly falling off the bed again. "Right one," he decides. Then he makes a face and gasps, "Oh ho- that's not Tylenol, is it?" </p><p>"Nope," Dean laughs weakly, letting the bottle fall from his left hand, staring at the one in his right. "You took the strong stuff. Good job, Sammy." </p><p>"Wups," Sam snorts, letting out a chuckle.</p><p>"Well you are a happy drunk," Dean snickers in realization. This can't be that bad, can it? He can handle this.</p><p>Sam frowns and shakes his head violently, "I didn't have any drinking- wine- alcohol stuff. None of that. Except for this." He gets up and walks over to the table, picking up a cup of coffee and starting to chug it. "Coffee," he announces happily.</p><p>Dean lunges forward and grabs it from his hand, nearly spilling the entire thing down his younger brother's shirt before he backs away with it, noticing the slight warmth radiating from the cup. Sam splutters dramatically and tries to get it back, whining, "Woah- woah- hey, that's <em>mine!" </em> </p><p>"First of all," Dean says seriously, holding the coffee out of his reach and pointing at his brother, "You're already high as a kite. Coffee is just gonna amp you up a few notches and I don't think I could handle that. Second, where did you get this?"</p><p>"Store. Over- over that way, there's a big sign on it, it's neon. Like a greenish blueish purpleish," Sam tells him with a grin, pointing in a vague direction. </p><p>"You said you didn't leave the hotel," Dean says angrily, refusing to believe his brother was even capable of lying when he was in this state. </p><p>"False," Sam corrects, the smile widening on his face as he wags his finger. "False, that's false. You said: did you leave the hotel <em>last night</em>, and no, I didn't. I took the Tylenol-" he pauses and corrects himself, "or it wasn't Tylenol, but i thought it was Tylenol, and it worked in case you were wondering- thank you for asking, because my leg feels fine now, but I took it on accidental and went to sleep with my book-"</p><p>"On accident," Dean corrects. </p><p>"What?"</p><p>"It's 'on accident'."</p><p>"Yeah, I know that's what I say- said- saying?" Sam frowns, tripping over his grammar. </p><p>"So what, you got the coffee this morning?" Dean demands, eager to move on from the butchered English lesson. "What happened?" he asked as calmly as he possibly could.</p><p>Sam puts up his hands in surrender and sinks down in the nearest chair by the desk, scratching his head and starting to tip back on the legs absentmindedly. He mumbles sadly, "I- I don't remember, that was a while ago."</p><p>"Can you try to remember?" Dean urged.</p><p>Sam nodded in concentration before his eyebrows shot up. "Oh!" He grins triumphantly and announces with a firm point to the drink in his older brother's hand, "I got coffee."</p><p>Dean clenches his jaw and manages to keep his voice level as he whispers, "I can see that, Sam."</p><p>"Good," Sam nods, "I mean, you have eyes." He doubles over with a snort, wiping his eye at his joke. "I'm <em>hilarious."</em></p><p>"Yeah, a comedian. You should think about changing your profession," Dean mutters.</p><p>"Really?" Sam gasps, grinning.</p><p>Dean realizes Sam wasn't being sarcastic- no- he was serious, staring at him with wide eyes. Dean looks at him and for a second he doesn't speak. Then he says in realization, "I'm going to kill you," setting the cup down on the table by the door. "By the end of the day- maybe hour, even- you're gonna be dead and I'll be wanted for murder by the FBI. Again."</p><p>Sam isn't even paying attention to his threat; he had lost interest during the two seconds of silence. Instead, he's rocking back in the chair, trying to see how far he can go without tipping the entire thing over, neck craned over his shoulder. "Why is combo short for combination? It's <em>combination,</em>" Sam says, stressing the 'i' in the word. "So it should be combi. It doesn't make sense."</p><p>"This can't be happening right now," Dean whispers to himself in disbelief, running both hands over his face before exhaling sharply. "God, I wish there wasn't a wraith a town over." People were in danger...they had to work this case. But Sam was in no condition to.</p><p>Dean stood after a second of self reflection and pointed at him before clasping his hands, "This is what we're gonna do. Okay. You're going to stay put while I go get a statement from the victim's wife and get that police and hospital file. You're going to stay right where you are, in that chair, not moving an inch, not even scratching your nose-" he stopped and snorted, "What? You don't need to raise your hand, Sam." </p><p>He waited for Sam to speak but he just kept waving his hand with wide eyes and Dean wanted to shove his head through a wall. "Dude, talk."</p><p>"I was waiting for you to call on me," Sam huffed in exasperation before asking seriously, "What if I want to stand up?"</p><p>Dean blinked and spoke slowly, "You can stand up-" </p><p>"What if I have to go to the bathroom?" the young hunter countered.</p><p>"Then go to the bat-" Dean spluttered. </p><p>Now this was just a game to the younger Winchester who asked with narrowed eyes, "But what happens if there's a gas leak-"</p><p>What kind of question was- "Then obviously get the hell out," Dean exclaimed in annoyance. "But until then, don't move."</p><p>"Okay," Sam nods, giving him a thumbs up and a giggle as he continues to tip the chair and Dean shakes his head in exhaustion, walking past him and grabbing his FBI suit to change. He's halfway to the bathroom when he hears a yelp followed by the sound of wood and a body tumbling to the floor with a low thud.</p><p>Dean hangs his head, not turning around just yet. His arms go limp at his sides as he sighs. "You fell, didn't you?"</p><p>"Uh huh," is the response behind him. </p><p>Dean nods, his will to live slowly draining as he halfheartedly asks, "You okay?"</p><p>"Yeah, I'm good."</p><p>The older Winchester sets down the suit as he digs his phone out of his pocket, turning around and leaning against the wall. Dean watches Sam get to his feet from the floor and struggle to place the chair right side up since he was a little dizzy himself.</p><p>It takes ten seconds of watching him try and fail at the simplest task before he speaks out loud, knowing his brother isn't listening so he can talk to himself. "What am I thinking? You'll probably kill yourself in two seconds if I leave," he mutters, scrolling through his contacts. </p><p>Sam lets the forgotten chair go where it falls again and he walks over to peer at Dean's phone, asking curiously, "Who- who you calling?"</p><p>"Bobby," Dean tells him simply, putting the phone to his ear. </p><p>"Oh! Bobby, Bobby, B- I want to talk to him," Sam says happily, reaching for it.</p><p>Dean gives him the stiff arm, making his brother stop in his tracks. He shoots him a look, "No."</p><p>"Please."</p><p>The puppy eyes fail this time as they do on rare occasion. "No."</p><p>"You're a mean brother," Sam pouts, walking away before he calls over his shoulder sulkily, "I didn't mean that. You're nice sometimes. Not a lot. But you're nice. Only sometimes though."</p><p>Dean snorts as the phone rings, laughing, "Okay, Sam."</p><p>
  <em>"What did you do this time?"</em>
</p><p>The older Winchester frowns when Bobby answers and he scoffs, folding his other arm under his elbow, "Nice to hear your voice too, old man. And <em>I</em> didn't do anything. It's Sam," he glances at his younger sibling.</p><p>
  <em>"Is he dying?"</em>
</p><p>"No. Not unless I murder him, which I very well might," Dean admits. Sam heard that one and he whipped around with a raised eyebrow, his older brother giving him a thumbs up and a dismissive wave. Satisfied or getting distracted, one or the other, Sam sat down on his bed and reached to click the lamp on. </p><p><em>"So the usual," </em>Bobby drawled. </p><p>Dean looked up as the room went dark and then light, Sam yanking the chain to flick the lamp on and off at a rapid pace. "Sam, quit it," he called and his brother looked at him in annoyance, a frown forming on his face. "No. Not the usual," Dean says with a sigh, pressing a hand to the bridge of his nose as he announces, "Sam is...he's high."</p><p>
  <em>"Sam? High?"</em>
</p><p>"Not drugs," Dean said quickly, rubbing his eyes as Sam started with the lamp again. "Or at least not <em>that kind</em> of drugs. The Jiminy Cricket would never. He took the heavy painkillers," he explained. "Like the 'don't use unless you're bleeding out and i need to staple your wound shut' painkillers. And now he's stoned, and there just happens to be a hunt-" Dean was about to have a seizure with the lights flicking on and off; his brother had started up again. He put his hand over the speaker and barked, "Sam, seriously, stop!" His younger sibling's head whips around and he stares at him with wide eyes, hand on the string of the lamp, meeting his older brother's furious gaze.</p><p>"Don't you do it," Dean warned with a death glare.</p><p>Sam uncurled his fingers from the lamp and slowly brought them back into his lap. Dean exhaled a sigh of relief as his eyesight returned to normal. "There just happens to be a hunt- a wraith, and it's killing people left and right a town over. It needs to be taken care of-"</p><p>Sam's arm flashed out and clicked the lamp twice, immediately doubling over laughing. Dean groaned loudly and shoved his head against the wall. "Bobby, I'm gonna murder my brother," he said weakly. "You need to get another hunter on this case, it's gonna be embarrassing as hell if he comes with me to work this and there's no way I can leave him. I left when he was in his <em>right</em> mind and he managed to get himself drugged up within the hour I was gone." </p><p>
  <em>"Well sucks to be you, princess, because all the hunters that I know of are at least a state away, caught up in a job."</em>
</p><p>Dean cursed, "No. No, no, no. Bobby, come on. Don't you know anyone that could make the drive? I swear, it's a cut and dry, find the sucker and gank it. We'd take care of it in a heartbeat if it wasn't for Mr. High as a Kite over here," he muttered, looking at Sam who was sitting on the edge of the bed, kicking his legs. </p><p>
  <em>"Are you deaf, Dean?"</em>
</p><p>Dean rolled his eyes and let his knees bend as he grumbles, his body language perfectly radiating his annoyance and exasperation. "Okay, fine, well then can you come?" he suggested weakly.</p><p><em>"No, sorry, I'm just sitting here twiddling my thumbs until ten fifteen and then at then thirty I take my daily nap- I have a life, boy, believe it or not,"</em> Bobby announces with a snort. <em>"It looks like you've got to deal with this one on your own."</em></p><p>"Great," Dean groaned. </p><p>
  <em>"Check your phone in a couple minutes, I'll send you the combined paperwork. But that's it. That's all I'm doing."</em>
</p><p>Dean pumped his fist. "Thanks Bobby, you're a life saver."</p><p>
  <em>"Just keep your brother out of trouble, will ya?"</em>
</p><p>The older Winchester looks over unconvincingly, panic seeping in when he saw his brother was no longer seated on the bed. Dean spun in shock, wondering how the hell he got out from under his nose, and he craned his neck, seeing him sitting on the ground between their beds next to the duffel bag that kept all the weapons.</p><p>"Oh crap-" Dean's eyes widened, and he spoke quickly into the phone, "Gotta go, he's getting into the guns- God he's like a toddler-" He hung up on Bobby's gruff laugh and walked over. </p><p>Sam was shoving all the silver blades into a bag, looking at their reflection first, tilting them so the light from the window bounced off it and traveled around the room, making him snicker. Dean crouched by his side and tugged the bag full of firearms further away. "What are you doing, dude?"</p><p>"Silver," Sam said seriously. "Sliver knives. Silver kills wraiths, Dean. It's a wraith. I'm good at this."</p><p>"Yes you are," Dean says just to please him, holding out his hand. "Knife. Now."</p><p>Sam hands it over and Dean takes it, shoulders relaxing. The young Winchester pulls his knees to his chest and rocked a little like he did when he was younger, admitting, "You know, hunts are exciting. We should do them more often. Why'd you tell me to be a comedian a minute ago?"</p><p>"Sarcasm, Sam. Sarcasm." Dean gave him a fake smile and added, "And we would hunt more if you didn't just decide to get high out of the blue."</p><p>"It was an accidental."</p><p>"Accident."</p><p>"Whatever," Sam says dismissively as he changes the subject, looking at his older brother. "Wraiths would be cool if they didn't kill people. They have spikes that come out of their hands. Shink shink," Sam nodded with wide eyes, turning his wrists toward Dean and hitting him lightly with them for a visual, sound effects included, until his brother pushed his hands away. </p><p>"Yeah, got it," Dean snorts as he grabs the duffel Sam had been packing. "You're coming, but not when I kill the dang thing. You'll stay in the car for that, and that's final."</p><p>"I am too coming for all the things- for the whole thing," Sam frowns and puffs up his chest, countering, "I'm coming. You gotta-" he thinks real hard. His eyes light up and he speaks proudly, "You gotta knock me out if you don't want me to come!"</p><p>"You've got to be-" </p><p>"Not kidding. Put your dukes up," Sam tells him firmly.</p><p>"It's put up your dukes," Dean corrects, watching his brother in disbelief.</p><p>"That's...what I said," Sam snorts, raising his fists from where he's sitting on the floor, bobbing and weaving side to side. Dean stares at him for a couple seconds before he makes a point by flicking his younger brother's forehead right between his arms, sending Sam, who spazzed out from the small hit, back onto his haunches and then his tailbone. The older Winchester raises an eyebrow and his brother blinks, processing his loss before his fists raise again and he says, "Again. I wasn't ready."</p><p>"No," Dean tells him with a grin. </p><p>Sam lunges for the bag and rolls away with it, scrambling to his feet before Dean can stop him. He throws himself over the bed and lands on the other side, nearly sprawling to the ground flat on his face. Somehow staying on his feet, he sprints for the door with the duffel in his arms, yanking the knob. "You can't stop me!" he shouts, opening the door and slamming it behind him with a hyper shout of, "I'll be in the car!" </p><p>Dean sighs and stands up, walking the other direction to the front door and leaning against it with a shake of his head, drinking some of the coffee that he had left on the table. A second later, Sam comes out of the bathroom, looking down. He meets Dean's eyes and the older Winchester waves sarcastically. "Wow, back so soon?" </p><p>"That was the wrong door," Sam mumbles sadly. </p><p>"Yeah, I got that," Dean tells him with a grin. "Put the bag down and get on the suit. We're going for breakfast first because God knows I need bacon if I'm gonna have to deal with you all day."</p><p>"I'm perfect," Sam gasped, hurt. "I- I- I don't know what you're talking about. I feel fine. Actually? I feel better than fine," Sam told him confidently. </p><p>Dean nodded, "Yeah, I bet you do. Go get dressed. There's a diner around the block."</p><p>"Can I drive? Can I please please drive?" Sam gasped in excitement. </p><p>Dean whirled on him and Sam staggered back with a giggle as the older hunter glared at him and demanded, "Are you out of your mind?"</p><p>"Yes," Sam pointed out.</p><p>Dean nods, smiling without humor, "Exactly. Did that answer your question?" Sam frowns, concentrating, as his eyebrows knit and he looks up in confusion. Dean rolls his eyes and says, "No. The answer is no, okay? You're not driving." Sam groaned in annoyance and he flopped down on his bed, muttering to himself. Dean rolled his eyes in disbelief and grabbed his suit from his closet, laying it down next to him and pointing, "Chop, chop."</p><p>"Chop, chop," Sam repeated with a giggle that quickly progressed into a loud laughing fit. </p><p>"I'm gonna kill you."</p><p>"You already <em>said</em> that," Sam drawls with a grin.</p><p>"Would you rather me <em>do</em> it?" Dean asked seriously. </p><p>"No. I don't think so."</p>
<hr/><p>Dean reached for the door to the Impala and opened it, looking down, his patience thinning.</p><p>"Move," he snapped. Sam huffs and starts towards him and Dean pushes his mop of hair back into the seat, rolling his eyes, "Not out of the car, just out of the front seat you idiot. Move over."</p><p>His younger brother lets out a groan of annoyance, sliding over and turning towards the window on the passenger's side, pouting. Dean slips in and fixes the mirror, turning the car over and putting on the child's lock just in case. </p><p>Driving to the diner is just a preview of what their day will be, with Sam reading the street signs that pass and saying them different ways, pointing out people's shirts or bright signs, shouting out the speed Dean was going- it's a wonder the older Winchester just doesn't call it a day and sail off a cliff. Not in Baby though, she doesn't deserve that. </p><p>They finally pull into the parking lot, Dean holding on to a thread of false hope that maybe Sam will act less embarrassing in public. He gets out of the car and takes a deep breath, promising himself bacon and maybe some waffles once he just gets through the door, having to catch up to Sam who had just walked down the nearest sidewalk, clamping a hand down on his brother's shoulder, steering him for the front door. </p><p>Sam frantically thrashes out of his grip as they enter the restaurant, pushing past his brother to get to the pamphlets they have available on the side in a rack. Dean lets him go when he exclaims, "It's maps, Dean- let me see- look it's mountains, get off De-" </p><p>Rid of him for two seconds, Dean heads for main counter to be seated and rings the bell, turning to look at his brother who seems to be taking every colorful pamphlet and stacking them into his arms. </p><p>"Hi, just one?"</p><p>Dean freezes and turns around, recognizing the voice. Sure enough...he turns and tries for a smile, "Kathy?"</p><p>"Dean?" Kathy asks, equally surprised.</p><p>It was the brunette he had met last night while out on that beer run. They had gotten a drink since they had hit it off, flirted a bit, Dean had got her number. He had eventually confessed he had to get going, but they had planned on meeting for lunch today. Of course that had to be scrapped when Sam turned out to be stoned. He texted her earlier that he needed to take care of his brother, apologizing for the change of plans, and left it at that. She hadn't responded. Now she was staring at him in confusion, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as she shifted her feet. </p><p>"Hey..." he choked awkwardly. </p><p>"What's with the suit, James Bond?" she asked slowly, suppressing a smirk.</p><p>Dean ran a hand down the front of his navy jacket and shrugged, clearing his throat, "Oh, uh...work thing." He raps his fingers on the table with an nervous smile, trying to think of what to say next, but turns out his younger brother has got him covered.</p><p>Sam walks over, dumping pamphlets into his arms forcefully, telling him distractedly, "Hold these." Then he turns on his heel and goes back to gather more. </p><p>"Family business," he explains as she eyes Sam's suit as well. Dean scratches the back of his neck before raising his gaze and laughing nervously, "My...brother had a...long night. He's still a little hung over," he admitted weakly, setting the pamphlets Sam had handed him down on the table. "And by a little I mean...he hasn't even reached that stage yet," Dean confesses, deciding that hung over would be the best way to describe their...situation at the moment. "Did you- I shot you a text," he said hopefully as if that would provide an explanation.</p><p>Kathy looks over at Sam and then at the pamphlets Dean had been stuck holding a second ago and lets out a small laugh, grabbing another menu. She smirked and shook her head, "You know Dean, I've got to admit, I thought it was...the weirdest excuse to stand someone up that I had ever heard. Turns out your life is just a heck of a lot more interesting than mine. I'm sorry I jumped to conclusions," she offered a warm smile.</p><p>"Interesting isn't the word I'd use exactly," Dean chuckles weakly. "No need to apologize." Sam arrives at his side, holding another stack and he looks at Dean and then Kathy, blinking.</p><p>"Hi," Sam says happily. "I'm Sam."</p><p>Dean puts his hand on his brother's shoulder and says forcefully, "You know who does need to apologize though? Sam," he smiled firmly. "Because there is no way in hell we're taking all of these. He will put them all back before we leave."</p><p>"No I most certainty will not," Sam gasped, pulling away in offense. "I picked them out special, Dean."</p><p>Kathy waves her hand casually with a light laugh, reassuring him, "It's fine, Sammy-"</p><p>Sam gives her an apologetic wince and he sheepishly corrects with a stutter, "It's- it's Sam. Sorry, just, Dean calls me Sammy."</p><p>Kathy smiles and glances at the older hunter who's suddenly staring intently at the wall to hide the look in his eyes which some people would say resembled pride. Dean would probably deny it.</p><p>"Noted," she says sweetly before she turns her gaze back to the younger brother and respectfully changes her greeting, "Well, <em>Sam</em>, I haven't seen anyone even glance at that stack of pamphlets until you, so thank you for appreciating them. And it's very nice to meet you."</p><p>Sam knocks his brother's shoulder and hisses in triumph, "See? She said thank you. And what are you doing? I told you to hold them! You set them down. That's not nice."</p><p>"This way you two," Kathy shakes her head with a grin and Dean grabs Sam's arm, pulling him forward, his brother whining about the pamphlets they had left behind them at the front desk. Kathy leads them to a booth and Sam slumps in his seat, Dean glaring at him as he takes the spot across from him. "What can I get you started with drink wise?" she asked, slipping out a notepad and pen, clicking it and glancing at Dean. </p><p>"Coffee. Black," Dean smiles weakly. </p><p>She nods with a smile and turns to his brother, "What about you, Sam?"</p><p>The younger Winchester was busy staring outside since they had a window seat, both hands pressed to the glass. (This later proved to be a distraction for the rest of breakfast.) At Dean's cough, he looks over his shoulder and twists around, speaking thoughtfully, "I'll have- I'll have, ummm... What do you have? Do you have smoothies that like...have five different fruits in one? Like five of them all just mixed together- banana, blueberry, strawberry- or maybe tomato, cucumber-"</p><p>"Tomato and cucumber," Dean splutters.</p><p>Sam looks at him with distaste and shrugs, "I've always wanted to try it. Technically- technically they have seeds, which make them a fruit. Botanically, you can't argue, Dean. They're fruits. Ketchup is made of fruits. How does that make you feel, huh? You're being sort of healthy. Not really."</p><p>"He'll take a water," Dean says, running a hand through his hair in exhaustion and glancing at Kathy who is desperately trying to hold back a laugh. There's pain in the older hunter's eyes as he tries as hard as he can to manage a smile.</p><p>"Coming right up," she says, tapping the side of the table that Sam is sitting on, adding with a wink, "And I'll check if they have smoothies."</p><p>"No," Dean urges with a plead, calling after her, "don't encourage him-"</p><p>"She's nice," Sam grins before he turns his focus to the salt shaker on the table, picking it up and staring at it before he puts it to his eye and looks at Dean through it, snickering, "I can see you." Salt spills out from the side and Sam gasps, looking at the holes before he tips it again, pouring a small pile into his palm. </p><p>"Don't-" Dean barks. Too late. Sam puts the handful in his mouth and immediately coughs, gasping and screwing up his face. "God, give that to me," Dean groans, snatching it from his hand, demanding, "The hell you do that for?"</p><p>"I thought it was sugar," Sam says weakly, scrunching up his nose as he gasps. Once the weird looks subside, he's eyeing the pepper shaker but Dean grabs it before he can, his younger brother going for the metal container of sugar packets next. Dean snags the end of it, setting down the pepper and salt shakers so he can put clasp both hands around it, trying to grab it back from his brother. Sam grins and grabs it with two hands as well.</p><p>"Let go."</p><p>"You let go."</p><p>"No, you let go."</p><p>"Never."</p><p>Sam knits his eyebrows in frustration, reaching and pinching Dean's hand, hard. </p><p>"Son of a-" The older hunter and curses as he recoils his stinging hand, his grip weakened and in retaliation he does the same to Sam's hand, just ten times harder.</p><p>"OW!" His younger sibling yelps and they both return their grips, yanking at the metal container.</p><p>"Sammy?" Dean snarls.</p><p>"Yeah, Dean?" He's <em>grinning.</em></p><p>"Let. Go," Dean growls, pulling as hard as he can. </p><p>Sam's eyes focus for a split second over his shoulder like a toddler and Dean should have anticipated what happened next, but of course he didn't. Sam let go and folded his arms neatly into his lap, blinking innocently. The metal container came flying at Dean who stopped pulling too late, the packets raining down on him, his elbow knocking over the salt and pepper by his arm. Of course, this is right when Kathy arrives at the table to see Dean covered in a mix of blue and pink sugar packets, face red, salt and pepper littering his side of the table. </p><p>"Made a mess, Dean?" she asks, making the comment with a slight chuckle, despite piecing together exactly what happened. </p><p>Dean smacks a packet from his hair, clenching his jaw as he glares at his brother who takes his smoothie with glee and starts sipping away, puppy eyes staring into his older brother's soul. "Yeah, big mess. Clumsy me," Dean mutters while glowering at Sam. She sets down his coffee next to him and Dean relaxes a bit. "Thanks," he whispers, pulling it forward and wrapping his hands around it. </p><p>"Hang in there, tough guy. I'll give you guys a second to order," she says, patting him on the shoulder as she goes to return the tray. </p><p>"You looked like an idiot," Sam giggled. "You've got sugar in your hair. Pink paper sugar. Give me one. Can I have one?"</p><p>"Absolutely not," the older Winchester growls as he ruffles his hair and starts picking up the packets, shoving them back into the container. Sam's arm slowly reaches for one that he hadn't picked up yet and Dean's head snaps up in warning, Sam drawing his hand back to clasp around his smoothie.</p><p>"Wasn't going to!" he protests.</p><p>"Yes you were," Dean scoffed. Sam's first approach was slow and stealthy, which hadn't worked. His next approach did work as he swiped with his long arm and snagged a sugar packet before pressing himself against the back of the booth so Dean's reach missed him.</p><p>"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't lunge across this table and throttle you," the older Winchester demanded furiously. </p><p>Sam looks offended and he knits his eyebrows to think of one before his gaze shifts down, holding up his drink and exclaiming, "Because you'd ruin this smoothie!"</p><p>"Oh my God," Dean says weakly, putting his head in his hands, letting Sam keep the sugar packet although he did make furious eye contact with him when he downed the thing a second later, Sam giving him a guilty smile after licking his lips and sliding over the piece of trash like it was a dollar bill.</p><p>Then, when he was tired of looking at his brother and getting pissed off with everything he said and did, he resorted to contemplating how horrible his life currently was. Of course it had to be this diner that Kathy worked at, making himself look stupid in front of her, downright idiotic. He had to pick this restaurant. Sam had to <em>get high</em>. They had to pick this day, this town.</p><p>Yes, Dean thought, because the universe hates me. He could feel the heat on his cheeks, realizing they were probably pink, which made him feel worse.</p><p>Just then, Sam gasped, and Dean looked up, exhausted, wondering what else his brother could possibly find exciting, because this breakfast couldn't get worse. And it was only, what, nine in the morning? Sam points in the direction Kathy had walked off and then back at Dean. He does this again with even wider eyes. It kicks in for the older Winchester what he was referencing and he tenses, snarling, "Sam-"</p><p>The breakfast <em>could</em> get worse. Of course it could. It was a delayed reaction, but a reaction none the less; Sam had figured out there was some chemistry between Kathy and his older brother. It was obvious to not high people, but Dean had hoped that in his brother's state, it would fly over his head. Maybe it had for a while, but now it had come back like a boomerang at record speed.</p><p>"You <em>like</em> her!" Sam shouts before he clasps a hand over his mouth at Dean's mad gaze and leans forward, whispering loudly, "You like her! You have a crush!"</p><p>"I do not, Sam. Stop talking," he hisses, seeing Kathy making her way back over from across the diner. Perfect timing. <em>Perfect</em>. He needed Sam to stop talking.</p><p>"Dean and Kathy, sitting in a tree," Sam sings, sipping his smoothie with mischievous eyes. </p><p>"Shut up," Dean warns, and it's a true threat that his brother doesn't heed. </p><p>"K-I-S-S-I-" </p><p>"Kathy!" Dean greets her, planting a nasty kick into Sam's shin, making his younger sibling choke on his smoothie and double over, hands going down to clasp his lower leg which results in him smacking his chin against the edge of the table. Dean didn't plan on a double hit, but he'd take it, and he smirks at his trick shot in satisfaction. </p><p>Kathy jumps, startled, as Sam falls onto his side on the booth with an annoyed groan of pain, unable to keep his balance. She looks at Dean in question, motioning to the younger hunter, "Um, is he-"</p><p>"He's fine," Dean assures her with a nod, handing her their menus, while ignoring his little brother. "I'll take the special, side of bacon, and waffles instead of pancakes."</p><p>"Gotcha," she says slowly, looking at Sam who had rightened himself, rubbing his shin more carefully and his chin at the same time. </p><p>"And he'll have the normal platter. Extra eggs. Thanks," Dean said, flashing another smile. Kathy nods and purses her lips with another smirk as he walks away with a slight shake of her head and a giggle. Dean turns to his brother who meets his eyes, resembling a kicked puppy.</p><p>"That- that wasn't nice, <em>Dean</em>," Sam chided with a mumble, crossing his arms.</p><p>"I warned you," Dean sighs triumphantly, "How's your face?"</p><p>"Shin and face," Sam corrects with a pout. "And they <em>hurt</em>," he tells him firmly, crossing his arms tighter and leaning forward, trying to get the straw in his mouth without his hands. After a long gulp he narrows his eyes and tells Dean in anger, "Don't kick me again."</p><p>"Then don't embarrass me," Dean hisses back, equally pissed. </p><p>"I'm- I'm not!" Sam protests, flinging his arms out in protest, his left one hitting the wall with a small crack. Sam yelps and cradles it to his chest, Dean staring at him in disbelief, unblinking. </p><p>They get their food about ten minutes later, after Dean has confiscated everything to his side of the table to stop his brother's wandering hands. It's a relief when the smell of bacon hits his nose, restoring the smallest amount of his patience level. </p><p>"How are you boys doing?" Kathy asked with a smile, setting down their food and utensils, refilling Dean's coffee with a wink and setting a water down for Sam.</p><p>"I'm doing spectacu-lacular," Sam told her with a wide grin. "How- how are you doing Kathy?" he asked sincerely. </p><p>"I'm having a great morning thanks to you two. Dean, I see you're hogging all of the condiments?" she joked. </p><p>Dean gave a fake laugh, completely void of humor, "Very funny."</p><p>"Sharing is caring, Dean," Sam muttered to him. He held out his hand, requesting, "I want ketchup."</p><p>Dean chucked a packet at him and it hit him in the face, Sam falling to the side again, covering his head with his hands. Kathy laughed and walked away, patting Dean on the shoulder who began to smile, grabbing another ketchup packet. He waited for Sam to cautiously raise his arms before he pelted him with another one, pump faking while eating his bacon to keep his brother curled up on his side. It continued this way until Sam started whining and Dean put an end to his siege. He congratulated himself for being able to eat his food in peace for a grand total of two seconds. It was the little things in life.</p><p>Sam sat up and wiped his eyes and Dean hooted with laughter, "Are you CRYING?"</p><p>"NO!"</p><p>Bacon helped Dean regain his composure and a little big of his dignity, which was a welcome feat. The food was great. The entertainment was not; Sam was busy, not eating, but <em>spinning</em> his eggs in circles around his plate while making sound effects and stacking his pieces of toast. Dean could <em>almost</em> pretend that his brother was normal and that this day was normal if he didn't look at the toast tepee his younger sibling was putting together with way too much precision. it helped to just close his eyes and eat bacon. Just another day at a diner, on a case, with his very <em>not high</em> brother-</p><p>"Why do your pancakes have holes in them?" Sam suddenly asked in curiosity, reaching over with his fork and poking Dean's waffles with a narrowed gaze. Apparently murdering Dean's food was fun because Sam continued to do it, jabbing the utensil into his waffles with a grin. </p><p>"Because you're stabbing them with a fork," Dean said in annoyance as he snapped his eyes open, yanking his plate away and whacking his own fork against Sam's. "Get off my food-" It was too hard of a hit and the fork flew across the table, clattering in the corner. Dean stopped mid sentence as he realized what he had just done. Oh God. </p><p>Sam gasped and Dean's eyes begged him not to, but Sam didn't listen. He grabbed his knife, putting up his hand in a fencing stance, narrowing his eyes. "En garde," he announced mischievously. </p><p>Dean glared at him, "No-"</p><p>"Yes."</p><p>"No."</p><p>Sam stabbed downward for the waffles, Dean parrying his knife with his fork. The young Winchester hissed, "The force is strong with you."</p><p>"God, you're so high," Dean swore, shoving Sam's knife away.</p><p>"I am <em>not</em>!" The young hunter swung and knocked Dean's fork out of his hand before he could react, sending it clattering across the table next to his. Sam started laughing, but he immediately cut the smile when he saw the look on his older brother's face. </p><p>"I won," Sam announced quietly, but it was almost a question. </p><p>Dean rolled his eyes and sighed, grabbing the two utensils back from the other side of the table and tossing them to either plate, "Eat your food."</p><p>Sam sighed in annoyance but recognized the famous older brother look and respected it. Although, he did mutter, "You're no fun," at a volume that Dean could clearly hear. </p>
<hr/><p>They managed to finish breakfast without anymore utensil battles or Star Wars references from Sam before they paid the check and stood, Dean thanking Kathy who chatted with them for a couple minutes. "I'll call you?" he asked weakly, deciding to still take a shot. "Unless this past hour was a total turn off," he added with a nervous chuckle.</p><p>To his surprise, she smiled lightly which turned into smirk, admitting to him, "I haven't laughed that hard in a long time, so thank you. You better call me, Dean. Bye Sam."</p><p>"Bye!" Sam waved with a grin, already walking for the door. </p><p>"Well it looks like he's leaving without me," Dean grinned, meeting her eyes. "I'll catch you later."</p><p>"Okay- oh my God!" Kathy's smile fell and she pointed over Dean's shoulder. The older Winchester spun and immediately his eyes narrowed. Sam was apologizing, having bumped a man's shoulder on the way to the door. In retaliation, the guy had gotten out of his seat shoved Sam in the chest, his little brother hitting the wall with a thud, looking back at him in shock and naive confusion. Then he was cornered, the man sticking a finger in his face aggressively. </p><p>"Hey, <em>hey</em>!" Dean yelled, storming forward and shoving the man off his sibling, stepping in between with a furious glare, one hand clenched around Sam's jacket protectively. "What the hell?" he demanded from the guy who had attacked his brother. He could smell the booze from the man's breath as he continued to yell at the two of them. That explained it. </p><p>"I'm sorry," Sam said to the stranger again over Dean's shoulder, his head cocked slightly to the side. "Dean, he's mad," he whispered to his older brother who was keeping him behind him.</p><p>"I know he's mad," Dean said threw his teeth. </p><p>"He's shorter than you but he's mad-" Sam repeated with a hiss.</p><p>"What did you just say about me-" the man swore violently, Dean's hand stopping him from getting under closer, cursing his brother's inability to have a filter when usually it was the other way around.</p><p>"Watch it," the older hunter warned the man who was glaring at his younger brother.</p><p>That hateful gaze refused to leave Sam as the guy snarled over Dean's shoulder, acting like he wasn't even there, "Who the hell do you think you are?"</p><p>"He's my little brother, and he said he was sorry," Dean hissed, taking a step forward and whipping out his FBI badge. The man's eyes widened as he finally made eye contact with Dean, wilting under the fierce green eyes that were filled with a look only reserved for the morons who dared touch Dean Winchester's younger brother. "Sit down, <em>sir</em>. Don't make me ask you again." </p><p>The man staggered back into his seat and Dean turned, grabbing the front of Sam's jacket and pulling him towards the door, walking quickly. Sam glanced behind him at the man who was giving him a death glare and waved friendly, calling, "Have a nice day-"</p><p>"For the love of God, Sam," Dean hissed, yanking him in front of him and practically manhandling his brother to get them around the corner as quickly as possible, shoving him outside.</p><p>The door shut behind them and Sam straightened his suit once Dean let him go, looking at his older brother and exclaiming in shock, "He pushed me! Did you see that? Into the wall!" Sam looks over his shoulder to see if his jacket got scraped, successfully spinning in a circle since he couldn't quite see the small of his back even with his neck craned. </p><p>"Yeah, I saw that. Can I not leave you for five seconds now? Is that it?" Dean demanded, reaching to stop his brother's slow turn in a circle. "Get in the car Sit 'n Spin."</p><p>"You're bossy," Sam grumbled, shoulders slumping as he made his way to the passenger's side, opening the door and sliding in- nope, he never made it. Sam had misjudged the top of the door and smacked his head hard due to his depth perception being out of whack, the hit audible from where Dean was standing on the other side of the Impala. </p><p>Sam recoiled, hand going to his head but that was the hand holding him up since he was already halfway in the car and he went tumbling out, sprawling in the street, Dean watching calmly from over the top of the car. His older brother snorted at the groan he heard from the ground, muttering, "Nice, Sammy."</p><p>"The car- the car hit me!" Sam gasped furiously, rubbing his temple as he looked up at Dean in shock, deadly serious. </p><p>"Sure she did. You're getting beat up today, first the chair, now the car," he snickered, trying to have a little fun.</p><p>"I know," Sam said sadly, prodding his head with a wince.</p><p>Dean allowed for a modicum of seriousness, "That was a loud hit too. I know you've got Prince Eric hair and all, but still. You good?"</p><p>"I-" Sam started to get up before he stopped where he was, staring at Dean in fear. "Uh oh."</p><p>Dean froze, muscles tensing at the look his brother was giving him, and he asked slowly, "What?"</p><p>"I'm seeing double," Sam whispered. Dean straightened in a panic. That was all they needed: a trip to the hospital for a concussion when his brother was clearly high and there was a wraith stalking the halls. </p><p>"You are?" the older hunter said, concern bleeding into his tone as he eased off the car, about to walk around the front and go to his brother's side.</p><p>"You have <em>two</em> hands, Dean. Oh God, I don't want to have double vision," he cried out.</p><p>"For the love of-" Dean cursed, pressing his fingers against the bridge of his nose. God, he needed a will to live. Or lightning to just strike him down. Or both. "Sam," he drawled, "look down you idiot." Dean shook his head, rolling his eyes as he got into the drivers seat, leaning over through the open door. </p><p>Sam gasped, still sitting on the street, "I have two hands too- oh." The young hunter stared down at his palms and muttered in relief, "Oh thank God. That was a close call."</p><p>"Yeah, it definitely was," Dean snorted sarcastically before demanding, "You coming? Don't be a klutz this time." Sam picked himself up off the ground, brushing off his jeans and approaching the car slowly, fists raised, flinching with every step, eyes trained on Baby's side door.</p><p>He pointed to the car and looked at Dean with wide eyes, "What if it hits me again?" he hissed.</p><p>"Sam, get in the car," Dean growled in a tone that meant he wasn't kidding anymore. </p><p>His brother huffed and put both hands on the hood, getting in awkwardly, leaning back so he didn't hit his head, his legs nearly kicking Dean in the face. The older Winchester groaned in annoyance, twisting away from Sam's feet and grabbing his younger brother's collar to speed up the process, yanking him inside the car. Sam went sprawling over the center of the front seat with a groan before he hauled himself upright, rubbing his arm. "Ow," he sulked, "that hurt."</p><p>Oh my <em>GOD</em>. "I'm sorry princess," Dean rolled his eyes, turning the car over and glancing at his brother. Sam still had a frown plastered on his face and those wide puppy eyes. "Are you dying?" he asked him in annoyance. </p><p>"No," Sam muttered angrily. "But technically we're all dying a little bit each day." Then he turned to stare out the window. </p><p>Dean whipped his head around and demanded, "What, so you're a two year old one second and then a philosopher the next? I hate you. Never get high again."</p><p>Sam turned faster than Dean had with wider eyes and he shouted, "I'm high?"</p><p>Dean blinked, wishing he had more bacon. His patience was low as he sighed, "No Sam, there's absolutely nothing wrong with you right now. You're completely normal."</p><p>Sam put out his hands with a shrug and nodded vigorously, "That's what I've been trying to tell you!" Then he yawned and settled down into his seat. A second later, as Dean put the car in reverse and pulled out of the parking spot, Sam looked over at him, his bangs falling over his eyes. He shoved them clumsily to the side, admitting, "Thanks for what you did back there. That guy was mean. I even apologized but he was still mad. I said: I'm sorry. And he was<em> still mad</em>! He must have woken up on the wrong side of the...um..." Sam scratches his head, forgetting the phrase.</p><p>"Bed," Dean supplied absentmindedly.</p><p>Sam shakes his head, "No, that's not it."</p><p>"What? Yes it is-"</p><p>"Anyway, he was like 'Ahhhh' and you were like," Sam lowered his voice and put his knees together, trying with a giggle to impersonate his older brother in a gruff tone, "hey dude, back off, sit down, FBI, don't touch him."</p><p>"I don't sound like that," Dean muttered in annoyance.</p><p>"Yes you do," Sam told him with a snort.</p><p>"Whatever. You're welcome, I guess," he added after a second.</p><p>"I- I literally thought," Sam snorted, running a hand through his hair, "I literally thought I was going to die."</p><p>"You weren't going to die," Dean laughed weakly as he turned onto the main road, fitting himself in between cars and easing onto the accelerator. </p><p>"How do you know?" Sam challenged. "You don't know." </p><p>Dean looks over at him and sighs, "I do know. Because he'd have to get through me first." Sam immediately reached over in alarm with wide eyes, patting Dean's chest and the older hunter recoiled in alarm, keeping one hand on the wheel as he fought Sam off with a shout, "What the hell-"</p><p>"Go <em>through</em> you? He can't- oh my <em>GOD!" </em>Sam shouted in realization, making Dean jump. "He was a ghost?" he exclaimed, spinning in his seat. "Why didn't we get the salt? Dean we have to go back! We have to-"</p><p>He reaches for the door and Dean's eyes widen; they were going 40 miles per hour down the road. He reaches, snagging Sam's collar and roughly pulling him back into his seat before his hand can clench around the handle.</p><p>"Sam! For the love of God-" Dean's heart drops to his stomach as he fists his brother's jacket in his hand, keeping him inside the car. He corrects the Impala on the road with a jerk of his hand, wheels screeching, a couple people honking as they drive past, flipping them off.  </p><p>Sam flips them off in retaliation, cranking down the window despite Dean's protests and shouting back at them. Dean just kept driving, staring straight ahead once he realizes that there’s no calming his sibling. The couple cars eventually passed them and sped off and his younger brother nodded in satisfaction before looking over at Dean in shock. "What was their problem with us? Some people..."</p><p>"Oh, I don't know, maybe because I almost caused an accident!" Dean shouted at him.</p><p>Sam frowns and asked simply, "Well what did you do that for?" </p><p>"You tried to get out of a moving car!" Dean screamed in fury, eyes flashing.</p><p>Sam settles into his seat with a giggle, realizing, "Oh yeah. I forgot."</p><p>"Don't do that ever again- God, I can't believe I just had to say that-" Dean says weakly, jaw clenched. Sam puts his hands up in surrender with a laugh. Dean is not laughing. His heart is beating a million times a minute and he looks over in utter disbelief, taking a shuddery breath before explaining, "He wasn't a ghost, Sam."</p><p>"Well why didn't you just say that then?" Sam grumbled in annoyance.</p><p>Dean looks over in anger, eyes narrowed and he speaks through his teeth, "Because you were too busy trying to launch yourself into the street!"</p><p>"That's a dumb excuse," Sam retorts, crossing his arms.</p><p>Dean stares at him, "I'm going to murder you."</p><p>Sam's gaze snaps over, "I'm gonna get murdered?"</p><p>"You just might," Dean nods, turning onto another street, the low rumble of the engine keeping him sane. </p><p>"By the ghost?"</p><p>"No, by me."</p><p>"You're the ghost?"</p><p>"No-"</p><p>"Dean, fight it! I know you're in there, it's gonna be okay-"</p><p>"Dude, I'm not possessed-"</p><p>"That's exactly what a possessed person would say- pull over-"</p><p>"Sam, stop-"</p><p>Sam grabs the wheel and Dean's eyes widen, shoving his brother off, "What the hell Sam- let go!" </p><p>"Get out of my brother!"</p><p>"Get off!" Dean shouted furiously, trying to stiff arm Sam in the chest who was feverishly trying to maintain his grip on the steering wheel. Dean had no choice but to yank the car over and slammed down hard on the break on the side of the road. "Get the hell off!" he shouted at Sam who was grabbing his jacket and trying to put his other brother in a headlock.</p><p>"No!"</p><p>"Get off, last warning!"</p><p>"No!"</p><p>"I'll sock you right in the face!"</p><p>"Do it, I dare you!"</p><p>Well it was a dare now. Dean brought his fist back, punching Sam right in the face. His younger brother fell backwards, toppling over against the door before he twisted and took a shot of his own, connecting sloppily with Dean's jaw. Dean groaned and turned on his sibling with furious eyes, hissing, "Sammy, it's <em>me! </em>You stupid son of a- there's no ghost!" his voice had risen into a yell.</p><p>"No ghost?" Sam asked slowly with a raised eyebrow.</p><p>"No!"</p><p>The young hunter cocked his head and rubbed his cheek with a frown, muttering, "Wait, so <em>you</em> punched me!”</p><p>”Yeah, I did!”</p><p>”That wasn't nice."</p><p>"You deserved it, nearly wrecking Baby-" Dean splutters in a fury. Sam sighs, rolling his eyes and giving Dean a look that clearly says 'calm down'.</p><p>The older hunter is fuming and Sam frowns to confirm, "So you're not possessed?"</p><p>"NO!"</p><p>Sam clasps his hand to his chest over his heart, breathing a sigh of relief and chuckling, "Well that's good."</p><p>"Yeah, it's just fantastic," Dean exhales sharply, chest hot as he swears to himself and shakes his head. "And that dude at the diner wasn't a ghost either. No ghosts Sam. Just a douchebag. All I was saying was that he had to get past me first if he wanted to get to you- that's literally it. How did that not sink in?"</p><p>"Awwwww," Sam says happily, completely disregarding the annoyance in his older brother's voice, looking over at him with a wide grin.</p><p>Dean makes a expression of disgust, "Shut up. Why was that so complicated? Don't you ever touch the wheel again."</p><p>Sam reached forward before Dean could slap his arm and tapped it quickly, giggling, "Boop." </p><p>Dean glared.</p>
<hr/><p>"This is a nice house.”</p><p>”I know.”</p><p>”This isn't our house."</p><p>"Brilliant, Sam."</p><p>"Thanks. Look at the bushes."</p><p>"I see them."</p><p>"I want to go touch one-"</p><p>"No."</p><p>"Why not?"</p><p>"Because I said no-"</p><p>"But-"</p><p>"Shut up-" Dean reaches and clasps the back of his younger sibling's shoulder, turning him forcefully as the door opens cautiously. He greets the woman who opens it with a smile, introducing himself.</p><p>"Hi, ma'am? Mrs. McAdams? I'm Special Agent Miller, FBI." He takes out his badge and flips it towards her before turning to Sam. His brother is staring at the other side of the porch and Sam points at a squirrel, turning back to Dean to probably tell him about it but he gets an elbow in his ribs instead. </p><p>"This is my partner," Dean says forcefully, "Special Agent Page. Also FBI." Sam looks at him in confusion, and Dean gives him the death glare, pointedly staring at the badge in his own and Sam gasps, giving him a firm 'I've got this, don't worry' kind of look before he clears his throat and puts on a Blue Steel face, digging his badge out of his jacket and holding it up triumphantly. </p><p>"These are real," Sam assures her with a smile. </p><p>Screw his entire life. Dean resisted the urge to smack his brother on the upside of the head as he flipped Sam's badge right side up and apologized to the woman in front of him, explaining, "He's new. We're here to ask you a few questions about your late husband, if that's all right."</p><p>She started to close the door, muttering, "Sorry, I already gave my statement-"</p><p>Dean put out a gentle hand to stop it from shutting on him and assured her, "I know, but that was to the police. I know you may not want to go over it again but we just wanted to help. And we could do the paperwork and dot the i's and cross the t's and act like this is another number, but it's not. It was someone you loved. So please, it will only take a minute. Anything that you give us will be helpful," he pleaded, giving her a small smile. </p><p>The woman's gaze switched to Sam and Dean prayed that his younger brother remembered what Dean told him to do. He looked over and breathed a sigh of relief when he saw Sam giving her his famous puppy eyes. </p><p>She gave in and opened the door admitting, "I- I have to leave in fifteen minutes-"</p><p>"We won't be long, I promise," Dean told her with a smile.</p><p>He congratulates himself on his victory and walks inside after his brother. Sam twists and whispers, impressed, "That was so sweet, Dean-"</p><p>"Stop talking."</p><p>Then the younger Winchester turns even more, trying to walk backwards and look over Dean’s shoulder to get a quick glance outside, asking with excitement, "Did you see the squirrel? He was eating bird seed on the-"</p><p>"Yes, now shut up," Dean hisses, pushing him firmly in the chest, shutting the door behind him. </p><p>They stalled by the entrance and Sam looked up, craning his neck at the tall ceiling, nearly falling over and stumbling into the wall as he did so. "You have a big house," he announced happily. </p><p>Dean's eyes widened and he glared at his little brother. Oh God, this was going to be a disaster. But the woman had looked around with a smile when Sam said what he did, luckily missing his brother's near fall. She returned to gaze at him with appreciation, "Thank you Agent. Brian and I got it when we were 20. I was making most of the money then, his business was just starting and we decided to go big or go home. We took a risk and bought the house and lived happily for thirty years."</p><p>"That's so sweet," Sam said sincerely, smiling and the woman pursed her lips in thanks, motioning them down the hallway. </p><p>The older hunter watched in disbelief as Sam followed, his young brother turning around and sticking his tongue out at him. Dean flipped him off as he went to catch up to the two of them. Sam turned back around to walk straight and didn't stop in time- he ran straight into a cabinet, stumbling back into Dean. The older hunter shoved his younger sibling behind him and surged in front to cover up his idiot brother who was holding his face.</p><p>"This...piece...is so...beautiful," Dean improvised poorly, patting the side of the cabinet twice to disguise the noise. "Where'd you get it?" he asked the woman who turned at the commotion behind her. </p><p>To his surprise, she smiled and answered, "That was from an antique shop in North Carolina. Brian wanted a mantle for the fireplace but I got my way with the China cabinet. It's sad that no one appreciated China anymore. I'm glad someone in your younger generation still has good taste."</p><p>The older Winchester flashed a smile as she nodded forward and started walking, Dean reaching behind him to blindly grasp the front of Sam's jacket, dragging him along. When his brother stumbled to his side, rubbing his nose and Dean hissed, "Watch where you're going, idiot."</p><p>"It jumped in front of me, it wasn't my fault." Sam protested, shoving him off. </p><p>"Cabinets don't move!" Dean whispered back harshly. </p><p>"Then why did it hit me in the face, huh?" Sam demanded, as if that was a legitimate argument.</p><p>"Unbelievable. Stop talking," Dean said sharply, tugging his brother to the side as they turned a corner into the living room. She pointed them to a couch which Dean sat down on, having to snag his brother's suit and pull him harshly backwards; Sam was about to sit into empty air, misreading where the edge of the cushion was because of his messed up depth perception. Dean gave his brother a look.  </p><p>"Do you want some coffee or anything?" she asked, clasping her hands in her lap, tucking a piece of her hair behind her ear and adjusting her glasses.</p><p>Sam's eyes lit up at the mention of caffeine but Dean spoke quickly, "No, we're fine, thank you. I don't want to keep you, we just wanted to know what happened, in your words, if you could take us through it."</p><p>"There's...there's not much to tell," she admitted sadly. "Brian was getting a glass off of the top shelf, using a step ladder. He fell off and hit his head, um, he was bleeding a bit. I called an ambulance because I didn't know if I should have moved him or not but it- it wasn't serious. At least...I didn't think it was." She gave a sad smile and her voice lowered, "I was wrong."</p><p>"You can take a minute," Dean said quietly.</p><p>She gave him a thankful glance but waved her hand, "I'm- I'm fine. Then the ambulance came and took him to the hospital- he was delirious on the way there they said- I went in a separate car. When they arrived at the hospital, I was told they took him into a room...but by the time I got there he was..." she paused and bit her lip, "gone. And his brain was...well I'm sure you know the rest."</p><p>"And he had no previous signs of any injuries, or illnesses, anything like that at all, before this happened," Dean made sure, subtly grabbing Sam's jacket; his younger sibling was staring at something across the room and tried to stand up to no doubt go look at it. Dean's surprised he had sat still as long as he had. </p><p>"No, none. The doctors called it a fluke accident. A possible cerebrospinal fluid leak? But- they couldn't come up with anything."</p>
<hr/><p>"What we did was illegal. We could get kicked out of the FBI academy," Sam wrung his hands nervously, flipping his badge in his hands, slumped in the passenger's seat.</p><p>Dean looks over dully and drawls, "Sam, we're not actually FBI."</p><p>His brother's eyes widens and he covers his face with his hands, whining, "That's even <em>more</em> illegal!"</p><p>"Okay, you're stoned and not much help so let me just talk this out," Dean told his brother as they sat in the Impala. The older hunter had the folder of all the reports and hospital paperwork in his hands that Bobby had sent them. They printed it out at some library, leaving Sam in the kids section as he went to the printers and scanned them in. He now had the packets spread around the dash and the front seat, glancing over all the details.</p><p>Dean spreads his hands, "The guy falls off the step ladder...that’s the only known injury. Mrs. McAdams showed us the counter and the stool, it was like a foot tall. And he couldn't have hit that hard if he was still conscious."</p><p>"Maybe I have brain damage," Sam looked over at him in question. "I've hit my head a lot harder. And more than once too! Like fifty gagillion trillion times! Plus like seven."</p><p>"That would explain a lot," Dean said absentmindedly, handing him a paper. "Hold this."</p><p>Sam took it and made a face at the pictures, "Yucky."</p><p>Dean snorted as he shuffled the papers, "So he starts to wig out in the ambulance, gets to the hospital, and between the time he's in the room to when she gets there, he's dead. So how would a doctor have time to get him alone? They wouldn't."</p><p>"So..." Sam looks at him confusion, waiting for Dean to keep going but the older hunter had nothing, tossing the paper to the dash with a sigh, running a hand through his hair. </p><p>"So maybe we missed something," Dean mutters in annoyance, flipping again through the folder and shutting it with a huff. </p><p>"Or maybe you're crazy. I'm crazy," Sam shrugged casually, looking over at his disapproving sibling with a grin. "We've been crazy for a long time. Or at least half crazy. 26.8% crazy."</p><p>"Where'd you get that number?" Dean muttered and Sam made a face and shrugged again, snorting. "We're not crazy," Dean shoots back, defending the two of them. </p><p>"You- you said it yourself! We hunt monsters. We, are insane," Sam quoted him innocently, waiting for Dean to argue. </p><p>"For being high, you have a great memory, it's really not fair," Dean admitted with a look. "And no, that was out of context. When I said that I was..."</p><p>A smile spread onto Sam's face and he hooted, "Crazy?"</p><p>"Shut up," Dean muttered, shaking his head. "It just doesn't make sense. Once you get to the Emergency entrance, there's doctors swarming everywhere. No way someone can stick their wrist in someone's head and drain them within that time slot, especially with everyone around. And it couldn't have happened after, because he was dead by the time Mrs. McAdams got there."</p><p>"So it happened before they got there," Sam mumbled as he stretched in his seat, yawning. "In the ambulance. I'm tired. But I don't want to sleep."</p><p>Dean froze. He looked over at his brother and knit his eyebrows. "What did you say?"</p><p>"But I don't want to sleep."</p><p>"Before that."</p><p>"I'm tired."</p><p>"Before that."</p><p>"That was too long ago. Something about an ambulance," Sam recalled with a frown. "Why?"</p><p>Dean reached forward and grabs the papers from the dash, shuffling through them, running his finger down to the Ambulance records. </p><p>
  <strong>McAdams, Brian.</strong>
</p><p>And lower on the record on the side: </p><p><strong>&gt;EMT on scene: </strong> <strong>Jeremy Fox.</strong></p><p>"Hand me that," Dean points to the other packet of the first victim that's on Sam's side of the car. </p><p>"It's so far," Sam whines, reaching sloppily and grabbing it with a huff, passing it over. "At least say thank you," he whines, but Dean was too busy reading.</p><p>
  <strong>Reeves, Keagan</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>&gt;EMT on scene: Jeremy Fox</strong>
</p><p>Dean's jaw clenches and he grabs the last set of papers, shuffling through, eyes scanning until they fall on the last name. &gt;<strong>EMT on scene: Jeremy Fox</strong></p><p>It made sense. One touch was all it took for a victim to lose it's grip on reality, which explained the victims starting to wig out while in the ambulance, which meant in the panic that begun the second they got to the hospital, the ambulance ride would be overlooked. The ride there with an EMT in the back was long enough for him to take as much brain fluid as he wanted before arriving at the hospital. The man was dying before he even left the truck, and by the time he had gotten to the hospital...</p><p>Dean looks over in shock at his brother and swears, "You did <em>not</em> just figure out this case."</p><p>Sam looks hurt and he puts his hands up, grumbling, "Okay, I didn't. No reason to be mean about it."</p><p>Dean breaks into a smile and laughs in disbelief, hitting his brother's arm, "Dude. We can get our guy."</p><p>Sam looks over sympathetically, putting a hand on his shoulder. Dean looks down at his hand and makes a face as his brother nods, squeezing his arm, "I know. I know we can. It's okay if you can't figure it out right now. I believe in you. Look at me."</p><p>"Oh my God," Dean groans, running a hand over his face in disbelief. </p><p>"Dean, I'm serious," Sam urges, his voice light. He nods and gives him an encouraging smile, "You're gonna figure it out, I promise. I believe in you. Because you're my brother and I l-"</p><p>"If you say you love me, I will punch you again," Dean tells him simply, flashing a glare.</p><p>"You punched me today?" Sam gasped in shock, putting his hands to his face. </p><p>Dean curled his fist, "I can do it again and see if there's any muscle memory of it?" he suggested. </p><p>Sam frowned, "I don't think that would help- I just know you can do it, okay?" he insists with a big grin, patting his arm.</p><p>Dean looks up with wide eyes and nods. He smiles and says softly, "Thank you Sam, I'm touched. You want a hug?" he offers.</p><p>"Sure," Sam says happily, looking at him in surprise.</p><p>Dean snorts, "Too bad." He whacks Sam's arms away and starts the car, the headlights flashing on, pulling out his phone to dial the hospital.</p><p>"You're grumpy," Sam pouts, crossing his arms. "And I know why. It's because you hit a dead end with the case."</p><p>"Why do I even try with you today?" Dean demands with a shake of his head, before a crackling voice answers the phone that's pressed to his ear.</p><p>He pulls into the street and spins the wheel, "Hey, this is Special Agent Miller with the FBI? Is Jeremy Fox working today? He's an EMT- yeah, oh, you know the guy? Home sick? Aw, that's a bummer. Well it looks like we still need to talk to him. Can I get his address by any chance? I have a couple questions to ask him."</p>
<hr/><p>They drive for about ten minutes before pulling into the neighborhood, checking the numbers on the mailboxes, passing house after house. They're nearing the end of the street and entire housing complex, turning the corner to find what seems like a dead end but isn't; its a road to a house with a rather long driveway. There's a wide metal push gate across it's entrance.</p><p>"That one, that one, that one!" Sam shouts, jumping in his seat and pointing. Dean presses on the brake, looking to see if his brother was right. Sure enough the number on the mailbox matched and he sighs, squinting at the gate that had a latch on the side. He puts the car of park and directs, "Alright, this is it. Stay here, I'm gonna-"</p><p>"I want to do it, I want to do it," his younger brother says excitedly, already throwing off his seatbelt and opening the door, scrambling around the front of the Impala and over to the gate, flicking up the latch and pushing it in a wide arc until the driveway is clear. </p><p>Dean stuck his head out the window and put the car into reverse, calling to his younger sibling, "Just stay there, I'll back up."</p><p>Sam gave him a proud thumbs up from the sidewalk and Dean rolled his eyes at his brother's wide smile, pressing down slightly on the accelerator as he rolled the car back, going maybe three miles an hour. The older hunter twisted over the seat to look out the back window, just as there was a thud. Dean jumped in his seat; watching his brother roll off the trunk of the car and drop the ground. </p><p>Dean slammed on the brake, which didn't do much since he was barely moving in the first place, but he froze with his hands on the wheel. For a second he didn't move, he just sort of cocked his head and stared at the dash. His first thought was 'why the hell did Sam just jump onto my car', and then his second thought was 'that's not what happened'. He replayed what he thought he saw in his head, and his eyes widened. </p><p>Crap.</p><p>There's a muffled, "OH MY GOD-" from behind him.</p><p>Did he just run over his brother- </p><p>Dean pokes his head out the window before he curses and shouts, "Sammy?" He turns off the car and gets out, slamming his door and walking around to the back where Sam is laying on the street on his back. Dean looked down at him and spread his hands in exasperation, "What the <em>hell was</em> <em>that</em>? Did you just sprint into the road?"</p><p>Sam looked up at him and shrieked, "You hit me with your car!"</p><p>"I was going three miles an hour!" Dean shouted in defense. "What were you doing off the sidewalk?" he spluttered. </p><p>"I've been run over," Sam says simply, blinking on the ground next to the trunk, staring at the sky. "I've been hit by a car."</p><p>"The taillights barely tapped you," Dean said with a shake of his head, standing awkwardly at his side. That wasn't exactly true; he had seen Sam roll off the drunk, but Dean had watched the speed, he had barely been going two miles an hour. </p><p>A couple people who were walking on the other side of the street further down start walking forward in concern, calling out, "Is he- is he okay?" "Sir?" "Do you need help?"</p><p>"He's fine," Dean shouts back at the forming audience, forcing a smile. "Sam, get up," he hissed urgently.</p><p>"No, I'm dying," Sam tells him before he twists on the ground and shouts, "Call 911! Call an ambulance!"</p><p>Yeah, that's all they needed, Dean thought furiously. "No one call 911, we're fine!" he shouts, waving the people off who slow their pace cautiously. Dean whips out his FBI badge and holds it up, assuring the scattered bystanders, "Really! It's fine. He's perfectly fine!" He turns in anger back to his brother, "Sammy, cut it out!"</p><p>"My arm is broken," Sam gasps to his brother who had crouched by his side, waving it up near Dean's face. </p><p>Dean looks at it and mutters, "It's not broken-" he turned his brother's chin and glanced him over, concluding, "Dude, there isn't a scratch on you!"</p><p>"It's all internal," Sam moans, rolling onto his side with a gasp. "I can feel it."</p><p>Dean curses his over dramatic brother and he continues to wave people off, "He's fine," he reiterates nervously. "As you were-"</p><p>"As you were-" Sam snorts with a dramatic sigh, shaking his head, "As of they'll ever be the same after witnessing a <em>murder</em>-"</p><p>"This is insane," Dean mutters, grabbing his arm and yanking it in annoyance, "Get up."</p><p>"Don't tell me what to do after you hit me with a car!" Sam whines, curling up into a ball with a yawn after ripping his arm from Dean's grasp. He closes his eyes. </p><p>"Are you <em>sleeping</em>?" Dean demands in a fury, pushing him in the side. </p><p>"Dying," Sam corrects with a sniff, letting his body sink to the ground. "Bye Dean."</p><p>"You're not dying," Dean rolls his eyes, reaching down since he's had enough, and grabbing Sam's arm- not letting go this time- starting to haul him to his feet. </p><p>Sam fights him, eyes snapping open and protesting, "Let me die in peace!"</p><p>"I know when you're dying, Sam. You've died before!" Dean tells him firmly, getting a palm to his chin that he shoves off as he starts to drag his brother to the passenger's side of the Impala- who apparently now has blood on her hands.</p><p>"What?" Sam gasps in horror, still trying to shove him off as he twists and squirms in his grip. "No I haven't!" he counters angrily.</p><p>"Yes! You have!" Dean yelled.</p><p>Sam considers this and then makes a face, "Okay, well then <em>you've</em> died <em>too</em>!" Was that intended to be an insult?</p><p>"Yeah, I KNOW!" Dean shouts at him, wrapping his arms around his brother as he forces him to stand but his younger sibling his stubbornly letting his legs buckle beneath him so his attempts are useless. "Dude, just get up!" Dean pleads before he growls, "You're embarrassing me!"</p><p>"Your <em>face</em> is embarrassing me!" Sam counters with a giggle, purposely going limp, making Dean groan as they both fall against the side of the car. His brother twists around and says firmly, "If I'm going to die, you're coming with me!" He tries to put Dean in a headlock who easily wiggles out, but the momentum sideways is enough to knock them both to the street, Dean letting out a loud curse. The older hunter lands with an elbow in his ribs and Sam gets a knee to his groin, both of them groaning in pain.</p><p>"I hate you-" Dean twists and grabs his jacket, Sam trying to scramble away from him.</p><p>"I just got hit by a car and now I'm being assaulted- don't punch me!" Sam howls. Dean ducks a swing and uses the side of the Impala to yank his brother to his feet, the bystanders now watching in confusion instead of panic.</p><p>"Official FBI business!" Dean shouts.</p><p>"I'm okay everyone- near death experience but I'm okay-" Sam yells to the people watching as Dean wrenches open the door and shoves his younger sibling in the car, closing it and falling against the Impala in exhaustion. Sam tries to open the door but Dean holds it shut, his younger brother finally giving up after a minute and slumping in his seat.</p><p>Dean's breathing hard as he walks over to the driver's side, giving the bystander's a wave and an 'i'm going to drive myself off a cliff' look before he slips into the front seat, immediately clicking the child's lock.</p><p>"I feel like I haven't said this enough today," Dean speaks slowly as he turns to his brother who is glaring at him. Dean gives him a angry gaze back as he reverses the car, turning into the driveway. "But I hate you."</p><p>"It's always, 'I hate you', and not, 'sorry I hit you with my car, Sam'," the young hunter mumbles in annoyance, crossing his arms. </p><p>"Oh, shut up," Dean swears. </p><p>"I'm going to sue you for a trillion dollars," his younger brother decides, looking down at his dirty and creased suit as they start down the driveway. "I was a lawyer you know," Sam tells him. </p><p>"Oh, no way?" Dean drawls in monotone. </p><p>"Yep, pre law. Get an attorney. And I guess you're gonna have to use our insurance to pay for my hospital bill," Sam added. </p><p>"We don't have insurance and we're not going to the hospital," Dean hissed, pulling up to the side of the house. "There's an EMT in there," he points sarcastically. "He'll give you a check up, how about that?" the older Winchester joked in disbelief. </p><p>"Very funny. He's a wraith, Dean, so no, I'm not gonna ask him," he says with a shake of his head. Sam glares at him again before he pouts and says, "I want an apology."</p><p>"No."</p><p>"You hit me with your <em>car!" </em>Sam shouts, puppy eyes going wide.</p><p>Dean curses and makes out through gritted teeth, "I'm sorry I hit you with my car. There. You happy? I'm also sorry you're an idiot who doesn't know how to stay on the freaking sidewalk."</p><p>"I didn't ask for that last part," Sam mumbles in annoyance, rolling his eyes. </p><p>Dean looks over as he turns off the car and gives him a fake smile, "But I said it anyway. Now stay here, I'm going in and I'm gonna take care of this."</p><p>"I'm coming."</p><p>"No, you're not."</p><p>"You hit me with your car."</p><p>"Fine."</p><p>"My suit is all torn up."</p><p>"So take it off."</p><p>"Can I wear your jacket?"</p><p>"No."</p><p>"You hit me with your car."</p><p>Dean doesn't give in this time. "No," he says firmly.</p>
<hr/><p>"Not sure why the FBI would be here," Jeremy frowned. He was a tall man with shaggy dark hair, dressed in sweats and a dark navy shirt. His eyes darted back and forth between the two brothers as he let them in. Dean had originally wanted to just gut the man, but Sam, even high, insisted on 'making sure he was a bad guy'. Dean had a silver knife in his jacket pocket, two of them. He had originally given one to Sam but on their way up the steps he had dropped it, nearly stabbing himself in the foot and although he hung on Dean's shoulder pleading for it back, the older hunter refused. </p><p>"We just wanted to ask you a few questions ourselves, Mr. Fox. We don't really get to chose where we're sent," Dean says lightly.</p><p>They walked inside, the older Winchester incredibly tense, as Jeremy sniffled and wiped his nose with his sleeve. "Uh, you can sit, there, I guess. Want some...beer? Coffee?"</p><p>"No, we're good, thanks," Dean said with a fake smile, as he sat down in the chair near the edge, making Sam sit on the other side of him, further away from the man who sank into the seat it looked like he had been sitting in that morning. Tissues littered the floors and there was a blanket over the edge of the chair. </p><p>The man waved his hand, "Sorry, I- I caught a cold. I'll try and stay away. What- what is it you want to," he held back a sneeze, exhaling with a shudder, "know?"</p><p>"Can I use your bathroom?" Sam blurted out before Dean could even ask a question. The older hunter turned and glared at him, eyes questioning, but Sam didn't meet his gaze. Instead he stood with a nod of appreciation and went in the direction the man pointed.</p><p>Dean watched him leave, tense, and his gaze was whipped back as the man snorted, "He seems a little..." he raised his eyebrows and whistled. </p><p>"Yeah," Dean laughed nervously, feeling the sharp knife in his pocket brush against his shirt. </p><p>"Do they allow you guys to do that stuff while on the job?" Jeremy asked in astonishment. </p><p>"No, not really, but uh, don't tell," Dean gave a fake smile and the guy grinned, grabbing another tissue to blow his nose. </p><p>The older hunter was about to start asking questions when the man stood and his gaze flicked down the hall, "Look, I actually have to take a leak too...you don't mind hanging out here for a couple seconds while I use the other restroom, right?"</p><p>Dean relaxed and shook his head, "No, not at all. I won't touch anything," he joked.</p><p>Jeremy nodded in thanks and walked down the hall and Dean heard the door shut. He bounced his knees and wrung his hands, sitting awkwardly alone in the living room when suddenly something was knocked over in the hallway his younger brother had walked down a second ago. Taking a quick glance behind him, Dean leapt up and crossed the room, finding Sam was standing outside of the bathroom, trying to put back together a weird metal structure that had been resting on the table standing in the hall. </p><p>He looked up at Dean with puppy eyes, hanging his head like a child who had just broken a piece of pottery. It was the same look he had given him when he lost his shoe in that gutter a couple years ago and he mumbled, "I didn't do it."</p><p>"Yeah it was the wind." Dean rolled his eyes as he walked forward, "I got it." The older hunter pushed his brother's hands away and started trying to put the structure back together, failing as well even after a couple tries. </p><p>"See, it hates us," Sam said in satisfaction. </p><p>"Whatever. What was this bathroom crap?" Dean demanded, turning on him. "I could have stabbed him and been over with it in two seconds with a couple of questions."</p><p>Sam pointed into the bathroom with a grin and the older hunter poked his head in, following his gaze to the mirror. Wraith's reflections in a mirror showed their true face.   "That's actually genius," Dean admitted, interrupting his brother. </p><p>"-fixing my hair because it got hurt by the car," Sam explained the reason for the bathroom visit, looking at Dean's expression. "What?"</p><p>"You're kidding me- so you're just smart on accident?" Dean demanded, not understanding anything about this entire day. </p><p>"Accidental," Sam corrected, seemingly proud of himself before he felt the word around in his mouth and sat back on his heels. "I don't think that's right."</p><p>"Uh, what are you guys doing?"</p><p>Sam and Dean both turned around, the younger hunter jumping at the voice. Dean smiled sheepishly and clasped Sam's shoulder, moving him sideways so that Jeremy, who was at the end of the hallway, staring at them in suspicion, could see the table with the metal structure that Sam had knocked over.</p><p>"Sorry, I was hoping I could fix it before you got back. I got the memo to not touch anything but it seems my partner didn't. You'll have to excuse him today," Dean rolled his eyes and chuckled. </p><p>Jeremy laughed and waved his hand before blowing his nose with a tissue he shoved back into his pocket. He walked over and fixed it, taking the pieces from Dean with the hand he had just blown his nose with. The older Winchester groaned internally, scrunching up his nose in disgust. Jeremy assured them both, "It's no problem, I'll fix it-"</p><p>"Although, I did want to ask you about something," Dean said firmly, turning so that Jeremy faced him with his back to the bathroom. "What kind of mirror is that? I ask because you see, my girlfriend and i want to move in together-" Dean lied smoothly.</p><p>"You have a girlfriend?" Sam demands, eyes wide as he faces Dean. "Since when?"</p><p>He was gonna have a heart attack by the end of the day because of him, he just could feel it. Dean gives him a look for him to shut up as he tries to laugh it off, his chest already tightening, a headache forming as he turned to his brother, "I just thought it was better to not tell you so we could keep private stuff out of our work life. But anyway, I was wondering if you knew what kind, here, let me show you-" Dean pointed for Jeremy to step into the bathroom, indicating that he would follow.</p><p>The older Winchester was 99% sure there was a wraith in front of him; Jeremy was uncomfortable. Very uncomfortable. He didn't move even as Dean gestured for the bathroom to look at the mirror. The hunter narrowed his eyes at him, about to confront the odd behavior but his younger sibling apparently hadn't gotten the warning and he demanded, "We're brothers! Why wouldn't you tell me! We don't keep stuff from each other, Dean, look where that got us!"</p><p>"Brothers? I thought you guys were FBI?" Jeremy tensed, eyes widening as his hand clenched at his side, wrist turning away. Oh Crap- </p><p>God- two things at once. Dean turned to the man first and nodded with a convincing smile, the headache getting worse, heart pounding inside his chest, "We are. Family business." And then to Sam, another look to try and calm the situation, insisting, "We'll discuss this later."</p><p>"We'll discuss it now!" Sam insisted, shoving him in the shoulder. "You kept this from me?"</p><p>"You really want to lecture me on secrets?" Dean snarled furiously, turning on his brother and Sam went back on his heels, hurt. Dean didn't know why he had said that. He had done pretty well at shoving down the anger he had because of his brother, trying his best to learn to trust him again. But for Sam to be the one talking to him about keeping secrets, that just pissed Dean the hell off. That shouldn't have mattered though, considering there was an angry wraith in front of them, most likely.  </p><p>"But you've got two last names!" Jeremy pointed out- out of the loop of what was happening between the two brothers who were glaring at each other, the end of the world being the main topic of their intense visual argument. But Jeremy had pointed out another flaw in Dean's lie which was currently spiraling, recalling the moment they had introduced each other when he first answered the door. Miller and Page. </p><p>Jeremy was ready to strike and Dean had to stop this. Now. God, his head hurt, his heart was beating a million miles a minute, even his eyesight was getting foggy-"Adopted," he assured the man with a palm out, trying for another smile and laugh that took effort, "Long story. Sam-"</p><p>"WHAT?" his brother shrieked in fury and disbelief, fisting his jacket in his hand. There were tears in his eyes as he shouted, "Who's adopted? Is it me? Is that why I'm tall? Oh GOD-" </p><p>"SAM, SHUT UP!" Dean yelled before he groaned and grabbed his head, staggering backwards and hitting the wall. The room was spinning, he realized. "What the hell-"</p><p>"Dean?" Sam asked, straightening in confusion with a concerned gaze, eyes focusing on him in a panic. </p><p>"You," Jeremy pointed at Sam who whipped back to face him. "Answer me. Are you really FBI?"</p><p>"What else would we be?" Sam asked in confusion, and Dean actually thought he was going to pull this off. But then Sam added a nervous smile and scoff, "Hunters? That's just <em>nutty</em>." The young Winchester gulped and looked at Dean for approval. None was given. </p><p>"You freaking idiot," Dean groaned. </p><p>Jeremy snarled and Dean's thoughts caught up to him as he realized what was happening. <em>Jeremy walked over and fixed the metal structure, taking the pieces from Dean with the hand he had just blown his nose with. The older Winchester groaned internally, scrunching up his nose in disgust. </em>His hand had brushed over Dean's when grabbing the pieces. One touch was all it took.</p><p>"Crap," Dean muttered as he groaned, trying to push himself to his feet and focus on his brother, the entire hallway doing loops. He blinked harshly with a grumble of effort, but it was no use. Heat spread throughout his chest as he curled his fist hard, clenching his jaw in effort to steady himself.</p><p>"Hunters," Jeremy cursed, and even though it was fuzzy and spinning, Dean saw the sharp bone protruding from his wrist, getting larger. He swayed against the wall, his eyes unable to focus.</p><p>"Oh my God, that's disgusting," Sam gasped, staring at his wrist in horrified awe, facing off against the wraith who was glaring at him. "Jeremy, man, get that checked out-"</p><p>"Get away from him," Dean groaned out a warning to the monster who was focused on his brother, jamming his shoulder into the wall and propelling himself up with his knees, trying to ground himself. He grabbed the silver knife from his jacket and raised it threateningly. "Don't hurt him or I'll-"</p><p>"You'll what, Dean? You don't look so good," Jeremy sneered as he turned on the older hunter.</p><p>Sam stepped in front of him idiotically with a grin and put his hands out, suggesting, "Hey, maybe we can talk it out-" He took a kick to the chest and Sam staggered to the side. The wraith hit him again with his elbow but this time Sam found his hand grasping one of the bones sticking out of the man's wrist, yanking Jeremy to the side with him. With wide eyes and a bleeding nose, he snapped it easily and Jeremy roared in pain, clutching his hand as the protruding bone splintered in half and showered blood all over the hall.</p><p>"Ahhhhh it's dripping-" Sam choked, wiping his hand on his jeans in disgust as he covered his face from the spray of blood. "Ahhhh- oh, oh no, I might throw up-"</p><p>"Sam-" Dean croaked.</p><p>The young hunter looked up and got elbowed right in the face- that hit taking him out and he sprawled across the floor with a cry of pain.</p><p>Dean surged forward and stabbed with the knife but he was off balance, Jeremy kneeing him in the groin before pushing his head forward into the wall. The older hunter nearly lost conciousness, his knees buckling beneath him but suddenly there was a hand on his neck, keeping him upright and Jeremy struggled, trying to hold him still as he leaned over him with the spike, ready to jab it into his head. Dean snarled and stabbed the silver blade into his thigh and Jeremy howled as he threw him off of him. Dean staggered and the million images of one fist flashed across his eyes. The wraith's knuckles made contact with his jaw and sent him flying backwards, the older hunter slamming into the wall, slumping to the floor.</p><p>Sam had gotten to his feet and he shouted protectively. "Hey!" The young hunter chucked the bone at him and it bounced off Jeremy's arm, Sam wiggling his eyebrows and making an odd expression that seemed to have some daring qualities. He attempted to puff up his chest and the younger Winchester shouted, "Yeah, take that! Oh crap- you're fast-" The man lunged for him, pinning him to the wall in a matter of seconds.</p><p>Dean's eyes widened as he realized the wraith hadn't made contact with his skin just yet, hands just gripping his jacket. The man was preparing to and Dean swore from the ground, spitting out blood. "Jeremy, you hurt him and I swear to God-" The man's eyes narrowed and Dean yelled, "NO!" </p><p>He pressed a finger to Sam's forehead and the young Winchester screwed his eyes shut before he was let go, dropping to the ground. Jeremy planted a kick to Sam's stomach and the young hunter groaned, curling up on the floor before getting another kick to the face. </p><p>"Sammy-"</p><p>"Ow-" Sam complained as Jeremy took a fist full of his hair in his hand, yanking his head up at an awkward angle. </p><p>"Let him go!" Dean barked.</p><p>"Don't worry, I like my food seasoned," Jeremy grinned, shoving Sam back into the ground. "I'll let him stew for a couple seconds, wait for the dizziness to kick in, the disorienting feeling, the anger. You on the other hand," he loomed over Dean who made a wide arc with his knife, gasping as he tried to focus, his vision turning red. Jeremy smiled, "You'll taste delicious."</p><p>Sam didn't let him get more than five feet before he grabbed the man with his arms around his throat, nearly piggieback riding him, pulling him backwards and shoving him into the wall, demanding, "What's your problem man? Brain juice shouldn't taste good, that's a red flag for when something is wrong, okay?"</p><p>"Why aren't you-" Jeremy swore in anger and Dean realized he was right; Sam wasn't acting any different.</p><p>Sam smiled, "Because I'm already crazy. At least Dean says so. I took Tylenol." Dean resisted a roll of his eyes as a scream got caught in his throat as the monster lunged for his brother. The young hunter yelped and shoved him hard in the chest in a panic, the remaining spike tearing through his shirt. Jeremy tripped, surprised by the force and went crashing backwards into the bathroom. "I'm sorry!" Sam called after him apologetically with a wince. </p><p>"Sammy-" Dean muttered, sliding the extra knife across the floor to him. </p><p>"Hold on," Sam told him with a sigh as he looked into the bathroom and glanced at the mirror. "Jeremy, can you just move a little to your left- thanks. Dude, you're ugly as crap," Sam made a face as he looked at the reflection and giggled. He turned his head with eyes and shouted happily, "Dean! It <em>is</em> a wraith!"</p><p>We're gonna die, Dean decided.</p><p>"I know!" he yelled, his patience non existent at this point, "SAM, GRAB THE KNIFE!" Dean staggered to his feet and groaned, focusing on the swaying knob as he watched Sam grab the weapon from the ground. "Pointy end, stab," Dean instructed with a wince as he clutched his head, the floor seeming to move in waves underneath him.</p><p>Sam stabbed the knife forward like Dean told him to and it caught Jeremy in the shoulder, the man growling in pain as he flipped Sam onto his back. "You're really strong," Sam choked out, eyes wide as he tried to squirm away from the spike that had come back out of Jeremy's wrist, yelling, "DEAN!"</p><p>Dean crawled forward as Sam twisted his head with a yelp; the wraith plunged the spike down. It hit the floor and Sam whipped his hand out to grab it, snapping that one off as well, making another face of disgust. Dean prayed he didn't throw up. </p><p>"You're bleeding ON ME!" Sam shouted over Jeremy's roar of pain as blood from his wrist poured down over him. As if the monster cared. Jeremy punched him in the side of the head, Sam curling up underneath him with a loud groan and accusation. "You hit me in the ear! Who hits in the ear?" Was that Fight Club? "Psychopath!" Sam howled before he giggled, "Oh, heads up-"</p><p>Jeremy turns at the motion beside him but it doesn't do him much good as Dean staggers into him, knocking him over as they fall flat on the floor. Jeremy wrestles with the older hunter, straddling him, and Sam grabs the knife, crawling to his brother's side. </p><p>"Pointy end, stab!" Dean makes out, keeping Jeremy's hands down with his wrist, locking his legs around his back to give him a clear shot. Sam yelps and drives it forward, right through Jeremy's chest. He gasps and looks down at the smoking wound and the man glares at him before his eyes gloss over and he starts to fall forward, Dean scrambling to keep him from landing on him. </p><p>Sam pushes his shoulder with a finger and the dead wraith topples to the side with the knife in his chest. The younger Winchester looks down at his older brother whose eyesight becomes clear and his heart returns to normal, the world settling around him. He takes in a deep breath and Sam blinks at the dead monster before he holds out his hand to help up Dean. The older hunter accepts it but Sam forgets to pull and lock his knees so instead he goes face first over Dean, half landing on him. </p><p>"God, you're an idiot," The older hunter kicks him off in annoyance and pulls him to his feet instead with a roll of his eyes, sheathing the other knife that was on the ground.</p><p>He straightens Sam who gasps as he looks down at his shirt and exclaims, "I'm bleeding!"</p><p>"It's not your blood," Dean mutters. </p><p>"Oh," Sam lets out a relieved chuckle before he makes a face and looks down, "Ewwwww-" Dean rolls his eyes and yanks the knife out of Jeremy's chest, wiping it clean before he takes his brother's shoulder and starts leading him to door. "Wait, we just killed a guy-" Sam gasps, looking over his shoulder as Dean pulls him around the corner. </p><p>"Technically <em>you</em> did," the older hunter grins. </p><p>"Oh my God," Sam frowns. "I'm an awful person. Hey-" he narrows his eyes and fists Dean's jacket, asking quietly, "we're actual brothers, right?"</p><p>Dean looks over at him and chuckles, assuring him, "Yes."</p><p>Sam breaths a sigh of relief and leans on Dean, muttering, "Thank God."</p><p>"Come on," Dean laughs, guiding him through the door and across the porch, clapping his back. They walk across the steps and then turn for the sidewalk, heading for the car, and Dean hears a thud behind him after a whoosh of air passes across his back. He pauses and turns, Sam half covered by the bushes he fell into. </p><p>The older hunter rolls his eyes and grabs a fist full of his brother's jacket and clasps his shoulder, hauling him up. Sam sighs, head dropping to Dean's shoulder as he announces, "I'm tired. I've had a long day," seemingly oblivious to the fact that he had just face planted into shrubbery. </p><p>Long day...well that was an understatement. Dean chuckles with a nod. "Yeah, okay Sasquatch. I've had enough too. We'll get some veggie," he makes a face, "pizza and call it a night, how about that?" Sam nods against his shoulder, staggering forward as his brother wraps his arm around his back to take his weight and eventually snaps, "For the love of God, you've got to walk a little bit Sam, I'm not about to drag you again."</p><p>"I'm tired," his brother grumbled as Dean opened the passenger door and let him fall into the car. Sam grumbled about how seatbelts were stupid, making a big show as he dragged it across his body and clicked it in. </p><p>Shaking his head, Dean shut the door and walked around to the driver's side, slipping in with a slight wince at his sore back. He turned the car over and glanced at Sam before he reversed out of the driveway and spun on the road, driving back to their hotel.</p>
<hr/><p>"You flick one more piece of sausage at me and I'll take your pizza," Dean threatened, glaring at his brother who was sitting across from them. They were back in the hotel room, a box of pizza lying on Dean's bed, the two of them in the desk chairs, changed out of their bloody clothes. </p><p>"You said veggie pizza," Sam whined, showing Dean his piece and raising his eyebrow as he corrected with a sulk, "This is <em>meat</em> and veggie pizza! With gross actual bacon," he made a face.</p><p>"You've got green pepper and black olives," Dean rolled his eyes and leaned back in his seat, putting feet up on his bed as he muttered, "Get over yourself. You criticize me one more time and I might snap."</p><p>"You're stupid," Sam mumbles.</p><p>Dean glares at him, "I can't wait for you to get back to normal." Then he shakes his head in disbelief, "I can't believe I just said that."</p><p>"I have a confession to make," Sam says seriously. </p><p>This should be good. Dean looks up as he bites into another piece of pizza, followed by a gulp of beer. "What?"</p><p>"Don't freak out, but I've felt weird all day," he admitted. He put up his palms, spluttering, "I know I've been hiding it well, but I just wanted to let you know, I think there's something up with me," Sam says nervously. </p><p>Dean snickers into his next bite and shakes his head, "No crap."</p><p>"You're not mad at me, are you?" Sam asks quietly, giving him the big puppy eyes for the millionth time that day. </p><p>"No," Dean decides. "Annoyed? Yeah. Wanting to kill you? Not as much as before. But not mad, Sammy? No." He shakes his head with a light smile and tosses his finished beer into the trash can.</p><p>"You should be," Sam mutters quietly and Dean's gaze snaps up in confusion. Sam meets his eyes and speaks softly, "I've screwed up a lot."</p><p>"Oh God, no. Nope," Dean says quickly, setting his plate aside and wiping his hands as he gets up and crosses the room, taking Sam's plate and grabbing his arm, "Time for bed. We're not about to have this conversation-"</p><p>"No, you don't understand, Dean," Sam protests, grabbing his shirt in a fist, ducking and weaving to meet his gaze. </p><p>"Yeah, I do, and you have no idea what you're saying- you said that there were 56 states a second earlier. Your IQ has never been as low as it is right now, so just get some sleep," Dean insists, turning him around but Sam fights him, shoving his arms down. </p><p>"No- no- I know exactly what I'm saying," Sam insists, his words starting to slur as he looks at his brother.</p><p>Dean feels the anger rise in his chest, everything that had happened the past couple of months, hell, the last year flooding his brain. Ruby. Lucifer. Now the freaking apocalypse. And sure, they stowed it away and did a pretty good job of acting like the world wasn't ending. Dean did a pretty good job of acting like he wasn't still a little mad at his brother. Sam did a pretty good job of acting like he wasn't tearing himself apart inside. Especially today, they did a great job of doing that, but that didn't mean the anger didn't still exist, it just meant it was buried well.</p><p>"You're still mad at me," Sam whispered, tears coming to his eyes at record speed. He bites his cheek and chokes out, "And if you're not, you should be. But I still need you to watch out for me-"</p><p>Dean shakes his head, trying to lead him backward with a quick, "I alway-"</p><p>"No- no, no, you said you always do but you didn't kill me, Dean. You didn't when you found out I snuck around with Ruby. You didn't when my eyes turned black. You didn't when I let Lucifer out of his freaking cage-"</p><p>"What's your point?" Dean demanded, his fist starting to grip Sam's shirt in his anger. "That I didn't kill you? No, Sam, I didn't. And I won't. You're my brother."</p><p>"<em>My point</em> is I screwed it up-" Sam faltered, looking down and shaking his head. "I keep screwing up."</p><p>"Okay, won't argue with you there. You done?" Dean asked in annoyance. "Got that off your chest? Feel better now?"</p><p>Sam's face crumpled with hurt and he shook his head as Dean tried to turn him around again, speaking forcefully, "Don't brush this off like you always do, just listen to me!"</p><p>"I'm not about to have a midnight cry with you, okay? I'm just not!" Dean told him voice rising. "So drop it, Sam."</p><p>"No! I always drop it. And maybe I don't know what I'm saying, and maybe that's good. Because I'm high, or drunk, or something, and everything is super bright and loud and I'm <em>half</em> convinced the floor is moving and made of water but not dropping it this time," he insisted through his teeth.</p><p>Dean narrowed his eyes and tightened his grip on his brother's arm, "Sam, I'm not about to argue with you while you're literally high-"</p><p>"I'm just saying sorry, all right?" Sam shoved him off and Dean staggered back a bit at the force, watching his younger sibling carefully. Sam hung his head, swaying a bit before sinking down onto the edge of the bed, bangs falling over his eyes. "For letting you down. I'm sorry." </p><p>Dean stared at the shaggy mess of hair and watched his brother's shoulders shake slightly. He blinked and weakly squeezed his arm to get his attention, Sam looking up, eyes filled. "Okay," Dean insisted, softening his gaze just a slight bit as he yanked the covers back. "Okay, Sam," he said again with a nod, "I hear ya."  </p><p>Sam nodded, eyes glistening with tears and he reached to cup Dean's cheek, "Thanks Dean- thank you-"</p><p>The older hunter shoved him off with a groan, pushing him down sideways onto the bed with a sharp, "Yeah- got it- alright-" He hauled Sam's legs onto the mattress from where they were hanging off the side and his younger brother turned over, burying his face into his pillow, settling down with a long sigh. </p><p>Dean tossed the covers on top of him and sank down into the chair Sam had been sitting in, rubbing a hand over his face before letting it fall to the amulet on his neck, giving it a quick rub with his thumb. He crossed his arms and leaned back in the seat, putting his legs up on his brother's bed. </p><p>"Don't eat my pizza, okay?" Sam mumbled sleepily. </p><p>Dean was already finishing his piece off and he called back, "I would never. Go to sleep."</p>
<hr/><p>Sam woke up with a headache and he groaned, turning over and blinking. He pushed off his covers and sat up slowly, rubbing his temple. "What the actual hell?"</p><p>"Morning sunshine," Dean greeted him, opening the curtains, sunlight streaming in and lighting up the room.</p><p>"Oh, screw you," Sam shouted, throwing a pillow over his face and diving back down onto the bed, the movement making his head spin.</p><p>"Yeah, that's called payback," his older brother said in triumph, referencing the many times Sam had done that to him. He crossed the room and sat down in the chair by the desk, tossing the young hunter a water which Sam clumsily caught and gulped. "How you feeling?" There was mild concern in his tone that Sam would have commented on if he was up to it, but he was not. And something told him he had put his older sibling through a lot over the past 24 hours.</p><p>"Like I just had the worst day ever through an unfocused camera lens," Sam grumbled, letting out a small moan of discomfort as a wave of nausea kicked in. He sat up for the second time and dared take the pillow away from his eyes. Then he swung his legs over the side of the bed and drank half the water bottle, breathing steadily and squinting. </p><p>Dean snorted, "I remember when <em>you</em> were the early riser."</p><p>"Still am, just slow start," he assured him with a chuckle. "Give me a break. Yesterday was crap," he mumbled, rubbing his eye. "My head is pounding. It's like a hangover but a million times worse."</p><p>"You remember the wonderful experience that was 24 hours ago?" Dean raised an eyebrow in amusement.</p><p>Sam scratched his hair and shrugged, "Kind of? Refresh me," he requested with a hopeful tone. "Or is it better that I not know details?"</p><p>"You embarrassed the hell out of me in front of a girl I liked, were convinced I was a ghost, I hit you with my car, and you thought you were adopted. Oh and you killed an EMT," Dean summed up as he took a gulp of his beer, "Those were the highlights." The older looked like there was something else but decided not to share it, and given his pounding head, Sam decided to let it slide. </p><p>He let out a laugh and ran a hand over his face, "Well you didn't murder me, so...thanks. I'm surprised your patience lasted."</p><p>"Me too." Dean smirked. "Yeah, it was tough. I punched you," he admitted with a slow nod, "and kicked you. And put you in a headlock I think at some point, so...sorry. Not really. You deserved it."</p><p>"I'll trust you on that one," Sam grinned as he stood up, stumbling a bit, Dean up immediately to steady him. Sam patted him on the shoulder and his older brother let go once he knew he had regained his balance. </p><p>"We're leaving in fifteen, you can sleep in the car," Dean told him. "Now I'm going to take a leak. Will you last two seconds without me?"</p><p>"Yes, Dean, I can last two seconds," Sam drawled in annoyance, shoving him forward. </p><p>Dean put up his hands in defense, "I'm just saying! You've managed to get <em>high, </em>which, by the way, what the hell was that? You, the nerdiest braniac ever, takes the wrong medicine?" He waves his hands to get himself back on track, "Not the point. I woke up to you stoned because I left you alone for forty minutes, you managed to get yourself beat up when I looked away for a second, and whenever I blinked you were falling into bushes or ending up behind my car."</p><p>"If you keep mentioning the fact that you ran me over, then I'll hold it over you. It's starting to come back now," he warns with a mischievous grin.</p><p>"Fine, fine, forget I said anything," Dean mutters in annoyance. He points at him, "Just don't shoot yourself by accident or fall or be an idiot anymore because I can't handle it. And please, for the love of God Sam," he grabs both of his shoulders, making his brother blink. "Never get high again. Ever. You got that?"</p><p>"Yeah," Sam laughs, shoving Dean off. "Yeah, I got it."</p><p>"I don't think you grasp how serious I am."</p><p>"I get it."</p><p>"I nearly put my head through a wall."</p><p>"I get it!"</p><p>"I nearly put <em>your</em> head through a wall."</p><p>"Point taken, Dean," Sam drawls. "I'm sorry I made you go through hell for a day." He rolls his eyes, "It will never happen again."</p><p>Dean hesitated and scratched his head, admitting, "Well, that's every day with you but that's besides the point-"</p><p>"You hit me with your car," Sam called after him.</p><p>"Oh, shut up."</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>TADAAAAAAAAAAAAA<br/>Hope you liked it XD I had so much fun writing this one lol this was a lot of my 1 am brain at work so.....sleep deprivation does come in handy :))))))))))))))<br/>Thank you guys for all your support it means the world and i rly appreciate im glad everyone is enjoying the fic! Winter break is soonnnnn heck yeah and i will crank out as many chapters as my brain allows haha so strap in for a rough ride<br/>IGHT I HOPE EVERYONE IS DOING WELL<br/>the amount of times i cried laughing while writing i cant even tell ya so i hope you find this as funny as i did.<br/>New chapter ASAP!!! Happy Holidayssss &lt;3 &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. It's Not a Cold</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>MERRY CHRISTMAS EVE EVERYONE!!! NOW CHRISTMASSSSS. If u don’t celebrate it, then Happy Holidays!!<br/>Heyo awesome readers!!!!! It is officially winter break :) This one is a short one short and sweet, my christmas gift to you. I was like i could make it long but i think timing wise cuz fyi this fic wraps up after 2 chapters (i know im sorryyyyyy) before Jan 1 where I will be sprinting over to Marvel. BUT keep checking my bio if ur interested because i just know ill have a headcanon and write it so there may be some posts in the future of oneshots so subscribe so you can get notified! I feel like a youtuber XD<br/>ANYWAY this is just some fluff, set in season 8, the whole trial thing, with some lines from the ep "the great escapist"<br/>ENJOY!! And have a wonderful day &lt;3 &lt;3</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Dude," Dean pounded on the door to the bathroom in the bunker, leaning against the wall as he took a quick glance at his watch and groaned, "Hurry up. I said out the door in ten. That was fifteen minutes ago."</p><p>He's dressed in a navy suit, FBI badge in his pocket. Dean scratched at his hair, smoothing down the sides of his coat and straightening his collar. They caught wind of a possible case in a town a couple miles away and decided to check it out. It could be nothing, which it probably was, but they had gone for less in the past and ever since Sam had started the trials, Dean felt like he needed to keep him and his brother in the game.</p><p>They were supposed to be heading to the morgue and then to get a statement from the victim's friend who had arrived at the scene of the crime. Dean shouted again for his brother and got no answer. The older hunter rolled his eyes, rapping on the door again before pointing out, "You're always the one who's strict about time. Your hair is done, I promise."</p><p>The door opened slowly and Dean gave a wide smile of triumph, announcing, "He lives!"</p><p>Sam shot him a look, attempting to shove past him but Dean's hand lashed out and grabbed his brother's arm, stopping him in his tracks, his grip tight. The older Winchester put up his palm and stepped in front of him, narrowing his eyes as he glanced him over. Sam's hair was messy and there were slight grey circles that could have been mistaken as shadows under his eyes. Dean knew they were a sign of his brother getting sick, and to add to his the gaze staring back at him was bloodshot. His nose was slightly pink and his shoulders were slumped forward, brown orbs tired and slowly blinking as he tried to shove his older brother off him with weak attempts.</p><p>"Sam, you feeling okay?" Dean asked him nervously. He didn't expect the truth but by asking it kept his sibling in front of him longer so he could gauge the situtation. </p><p>His younger brother's voice sounded lighter than usual and he cleared his throat with a wince, "Yeah. I feel great." Sam ran a hand over his face as raised his eyebrows as if trying to fake energy, "You ready?"</p><p>"Yeah, but just wait a second," Dean said quickly, before he put a firm hand on Sam's shoulder. "You good? How many fingers am I holding up?" He waved two in front of his younger brother's face.</p><p>"Really? You're kidding," Sam snorted, but he didn't answer him, he just slapped his hand away.</p><p>Dean shook his head and shrugged, "No, I'm not kidding." He looked him over again, head to toe and announced unsympathetically, "You look like crap."</p><p>The young hunter sighed, trying for a laugh that sounded like the humor was sucked out of it. "Thanks," he slurred, "You don't look too good yourself."</p><p>"Yeah, but at least I'm not borderline zombie," Dean pointed out. As a hunter he was used to being tired; they rarely got enough sleep, which result in the two of them being a little off sometimes. He had seen that side of Sam. This was different. "Is this the trials?" Dean asked seriously, ignoring the odd feeling that clenched his chest.</p><p>The first two trials had set them back, messed with his brother, Dean knew that. He was by his side as Sam crumpled to the floor in pain, Dean coaxing him through it. But the first trial had little to no lasting effect after that period of agony...the second trial was a different story. Dean had thought, or more accurately hoped, that they had rounded the curve on it two weeks ago. He had seen his brother a little more down than usual lately, but it had been disguised by exhaustion, Sam seemingly running himself to the ground in determination, forcing himself to stick to the books in order get this thing over with.</p><p>With Sam standing in front of him, however, looking like he would collapse if Dean flicked him, it was clear this was more severe then either of them had anticipated. And honestly? Dean would take Sam crumpling to the ground, sounds of pain he never wanted to hear coming from his younger sibling, for just a split second and then have it all being gone, compared to...whatever this was. This was strung out. This was slow. This was torture. The fact that Dean was in the dark scared him. If the trials had just tossed in a common cold for the heck of it, maybe he could handle that. He could fix that. But there was a horrible feeling that he was just staring at a tip of an iceberg. </p><p>"I don't know," Sam complained, making a face. "I'm just tired, that's all."</p><p>Dean considered this and shook his head, "How much sleep have you gotten in the past three days? Because I know when you say you're going to bed you're up reading or something. I've talked to you about that-" More accurately, he had <em>tried</em> to talk to Sam about that. He had cornered his brother a couple times, just to check up, and each time, his subtle or blatant efforts were avoided the minute they were detected. </p><p>"Dean-" Sam groaned, setting back on his haunches and stumbling a little, legs trembling before Sam quickly locked his knees.</p><p>The older hunter immediately snapped his head into a firm shake and spoke sharply, "No, Sam. Answer the question."</p><p>Sam heard the tone that came from his sibling and dared to meet the fierce green eyes, muttering guilty, "I don't- five hours?"</p><p>Okay. Not bad. Not the recommended 8 or 9 a night, but they were hunters, Dean was lucky to get 6. He relaxed and nodded in relief, feeling the sudden need to clarify just so his chest could loosen, "A night?"</p><p>Sam's voice lowered even more and he spoke so quietly it was a wonder Dean heard him. "In total."</p><p>"Sam," Dean cursed violently, his eyes widening as he glared at his younger brother. Sam hung his head, rubbing his nose with the back of his hand. The older Winchester composed himself by staring at the bunker floor, looking at every crack in the tile.</p><p>Sam looked at him with a gaze that was an urge to dismiss the issue, adding quickly, to try and nip the outburst about to occur, "It's fine, I'm just not as h-"</p><p>"What the hell?" Dean demanded, concern being mixed with anger. So much for getting composed. The anger won over, spreading across his chest as he ordered his brother to give him an answer for why he had been hiding this from Dean. He knew the answer, and he knew that roles reversed and he would have probably done the same thing. But in that moment, he didn't care. </p><p>"I just didn't want you to freak out," the young hunter mumbled like the older Winchester knew he would, and he looked like the little kid Dean had found when he ripped his magazine back when he was seven. His hands hung at his sides, his chin was to his chest, eyes down. </p><p>Dean clenched his jaw at his choice of words and scoffed, "Freak out? Well that's so thoughtful of you, Sam-"</p><p>"Dean-" he protested weakly. He too knew that if Dean had been in his shoes he would have mimicked his actions. But Dean wasn't, so he deserved this, because he would have chewed his brother up too. </p><p>"Why would I freak out?" Dean asked with exaggeration, sarcasm dripping from his tone. "Not like my little brother is taking on the trials and thinks he can get away with not sleeping. You haven't ever eaten on your own- I've been the one practically forcing food down your throat. You say you're not hungry or that you've already eaten, which, don't think you're smart, I know that's been a lie. And I'm done with it, I'm done with it, okay? News flash, Sam, you're not Mr. Incredible."</p><p>"You said it yourself, we need to keep hunting-" his younger sibling said firmly. </p><p>Dean spun him around without a second thought, pushing him for the room he had just walked out of. "Yeah that was back when you could walk two feet without your legs shaking. You aren't going anywhere. Sam, look at yourself, you probably can't even hold a gun let alone hold your own against a vamp or whatever the hell this thing is we've got on the docket."</p><p>"Dean, I'm fine," Sam protested, his feet stumbling across the floor as he tried to turn around and shove his brother backwards.  </p><p>"Yeah, I can see that Sasquatch," Dean snorted as Sam huffed in exasperation, sinking down onto his bed and swaying a bit. "You just got dizzy," Dean accused him.</p><p>Sam's tired brown eyes had trouble focusing on his brother and he ran a hand over his face with a sigh, "No I didn't."</p><p>Now he was blatantly lying? Or was that denial? Either way, Dean hated it. The anger was seeping through his lungs and tightening his breathing. He had wanted to be the one doing these trials, not his brother, but <em>Sam</em> had killed the hellhound. <em>Sam</em> was the one who insisted on doing them. They had gotten this far, and the older Winchester had promised his brother that he would help carry him if he couldn't carry the weight that the trials set on Sam's shoulders. And that was what he intended to do.</p><p>"Just...this isn't even the gritty stuff, this is the going around and playing pretend so we can figure out what happened crap. It's not exciting." Dean pointed both hands to his own chest, "So I'll go and do the talking. You stay here and get sleep." Dean yanked the blanket from the edge of the bed off and tossed it to his younger sibling. "And then if you're feeling better, maybe you can come gank the monster with me, if there even is one. That's a strong maybe. And this is non-negotiable."</p><p>Sam glared at him but wilted under the older brother stare that always won out and he curled up on the bed, pulling the blanket to his chin with a slight shiver. Dean frowned at the chill and grabbed the other blankets from the closet, throwing one to his sibling before putting the rest at the edge of the bed just in case, making a mental note to turn up the thermostat when he got into the living room. </p><p>"I'll make a food run and get some stuff for dad's kitchen sink stew, huh? Sound good?" Dean asked with a slight smile. "Cause I'm pretty sure all we've got left in the fridge is some expired take out, a half empty beer, and candy." Not exactly sick person grub. </p><p>"K," Sam said quietly as he tugged at the other blanket and closed his eyes, turning onto his stomach and shoving his head into the pillow. Dean clasped his brother's shoulder beneath the blankets before he crossed the room and rapped his knuckles on the door frame, glancing over his shoulder. The older hunter stayed where he was at the doorway, biting his lip. He could stay...he could ask some other hunter to-</p><p>"You've got to go, Dean." Sam's voice came muffled beneath the pillows and blankets but it was firm nonetheless. The young hunter knew exactly what his brother was thinking and he wasn't about to let people die because he had a cold, or whatever this was. </p><p>"Yeah, okay...you sure?" </p><p>"Yeah," Sam insisted in a low mumble. </p><p>"Okay..." The older Winchester nodded slowly and his eyes flicked to the bed as he shut the door with a gruff, "I'll be back soon. Just get some rest, okay? And call me if something happens, you got that? Hey. Sammy?"</p><p>Sam was already asleep, brows furrowed in discomfort. </p>
<hr/><p>Dean sped back to the bunker without even realizing, going about 15 over on the long stretch of road, parking the car into the garage and jogging down the steps with the bags that he got from the store in his hands. Balancing them on his knee as he unlocked the back door, he turned and slipped his keys back into his pocket before nudging the metal open and sliding through, kicking it shut behind him. </p><p>He set the bags down on the counter by the kitchen before he walked down the hall to Sam's room, turning a corner and arriving at the door.</p><p>"Sam, how we do-" He peaked in and his heart went to his stomach. The bed was empty, the blankets on the floor, one of them a little ways towards the other corner of the room where the bathroom was. Dean snapped his head to the side and jumped forward; Sam was on the floor, propped up against the cabinet under the sink, head to his chest, eyes closed, bangs soaked with sweat. </p><p>In an instant Dean was across the room and at his side, moving the mop of brown hair and gripping his shirt with one hand, cupping his cheek with the other to raise his chin, shouting, "Sam? Sammy!"</p><p>His brother groaned and opened his eyes, pushing Dean off as he sat up with shaky arms, muttering, "W-what-" His voice had gotten even weaker, eye bags darker, face paler. He looked like crap, even worse than he had when Dean left him. </p><p>The older hunter scowled as he sank down to the ground across from him, back against the wall and he cursed, "Man, I thought you were hurt or passed out or something. The hell are you doing in the bathroom?"</p><p>Sam grimaced and he pointed for the toilet, "T-throwing up." His face suddenly turned red, and Dean was twistedly thankful for a slight instance of color. </p><p>"Oh." The older Winchester couldn't help his wince; Sam hated throwing up. He hated it when he was a kid and he hated it now. It happened whenever he was really sick, which was another bad sign, and it ended with a mess of tears and a sore stomach for the next couple of days. </p><p>"And I was hot but the f-floor is cold," Sam admitted, his head nodding to his chest a bit as he slumped back against the cabinet. Sweat soaked his skin but Sam shivered.  </p><p>"Crap, your fever is all out of whack, dude," Dean cursed, fishing a thermometer out from his pocket. He held it out.</p><p>Sam eyed it suspiciously and frowned, "When did you get that?"</p><p>"When you started throwing off heat waves," Dean said with a low grumble, waving it around some more, ordering, "Come on."</p><p>"No-"</p><p>"I swear to God, Sam-" Dean closed his eyes for a split second to maintain his composure, which meant he didn't see the green shade appear on his brother's face as he grabbed his stomach. </p><p>"<em>No</em>, <em>wait</em>, Dean-" Sam groaned.</p><p>Dean caught the tone change that time and his eyes shot open as Sam lunged for the toilet, knees buckling on the way there. "Woah, woah, hey-" The older Winchester caught him around the shoulders and slipped a hand on his forehead so his head didn't slam into the edge of the seat, Sam's hair sweaty beneath his palm.</p><p>The younger hunter threw up the contents of his stomach, his body fighting it, Dean could tell as he shuddered beneath his grip. His older brother put a hand on his back and Sam retched between gasps and coughs until he was dry heaving. White knuckles gripped the side of the toilet as everything came up, his stomach clenched and twisted, barely able to get air into his lungs. </p><p>"Hey, easy, take it easy, Sammy," his brother told him, pulling him up as gently as he could, the young Winchester gulping down the awful taste as he pried his fingers from the toilet and let Dean guide him backward against the wall. "Sucks, doesn't it?" his brother asked with a slight snort, eyes watching him with caution as he patted his shoulder, trying for a joking smile. </p><p>"Y-yeah," Sam made out weakly, trying to take a shuddery breath before he looked at Dean with embarrassment. He made out, "You d-don't have to be here."</p><p>"I know," Dean nodded. He had taken care of the kid whenever he got sick, he wasn't gonna stop now. Dean remembered a time they had been driving with their dad and his brother had made comments about his stomach hurting, their father brushing it off, saying it would pass. Thirty minutes later, Sam had let out a moan, alerting him that he was going to be sick. John told him to hold it. Dean yelled at him until he pulled the car off to the side of the road. Turns out the kid had a stomach flu. </p><p>Sam gave him a thankful gaze as he reached for the handle of the toilet and was about to flush. He felt that awful rising feeling again and he threw himself forward, arms sagging beneath him as he threw up for another round. When he couldn't take it anymore, he coughed, going weak against the seat with a groan. He had nothing left, but his body continued to heave, Sam choking with every strangled sob he tried to intake. It finally ended and he spit out a glob of blood with a garbled sound that would have been a whimper if it had not been coated with a wheeze.</p><p>It was then that Sam registered the hand on his back in a panic; his older brother was at his side again. Sam stared directly at the red specks and glob of blood he just thrown up and internally cursed. He had kept it a secret from his brother for so long, but the hand had stilled on his back and he could guess what that meant. He prayed to God with false hope that Dean didn't see it, but he did.</p><p>A loud curse came from behind him and Sam was quick to flush this time to dispose of the bloody evidence. He swallowed and fell back onto his haunches, grabbing his stomach. The room spun and he might have toppled over to the side and hit his head if it wasn't for his brother who had him by the arm, gaze fierce. Sam found himself fisting Dean's flannel for support as his vision spun and blurred. </p><p>"How long-" Dean's sharp voice broke through everything and made his eyes snap open. </p><p>"Dean-" he tried quietly. </p><p>"How long, Sam!" Dean demanded, his voice echoing against the walls of the bathroom. </p><p>Sam winced at the hurt in his eyes, something he had wanted to avoid but instead caused. He was already hanging his head but it dropped lower as he admitted, "Two weeks."</p><p>The blood had started two weeks ago. They had been sitting at the table doing research when he had felt something in his throat. He choked and coughed, grabbing a tissue and he hacked, bending over, Dean asking if he was okay from his spot at the table. Sam's hand that held the tissue was in his lap, so Dean couldn't see it, but Sam stared at the blood that had splattered along the white fabric. He had crumpled it up and shoved it into his pocket, deciding to not tell his brother, before he made up some excuse about water going down the wrong pipe. Dean had bought it and Sam hadn't told him since, although it happened more frequently and the blood became more than just a couple specks. </p><p>"Two- we-" Dean repeated, barely able to get out the words. He let Sam's arm go once he knew he was leaning against the cabinet, and it dropped limp the floor, uncurling from his older brother's sleeve. Dean scoffed in disbelief, running a hand over his face before he got up and mumbled, "I'm getting you some water."</p><p>Sam put his head in his hands and shivered, trying to unclench his fists and massage the massive stomach cramps he was having, focusing on his breathing so that awful feeling didn't resurface. He knew there was nothing else for him to throw up but that didn't make the nausea go away. His eyes stung and Sam tilted his head back to gulp down a breath, cursing himself for how pathetic he must have looked. He hadn't thrown up in a long time, a really long time, and he had forgotten how much he hated it. Not only that but now his older brother was mad at him.</p><p>Dean was back a second later and he crouched at Sam's side with a cup and the thermometer. His glare didn't give Sam much of a choice and the young hunter grabbed the device with shaking fingers and guided it under his tongue. He did try and move it around so it didn't give such a harsh reading but the result was still bad regardless. </p><p>
  <strong>102.8</strong>
</p><p>Dean frowned as he took it back and handed his younger brother the cup of cold water which he took greedily, gulping to rid himself of the awful taste in his mouth. He felt a hand on the edge of the cup and instead of tipping it forward like he usually did to mess with him, Dean eased it back gently, muttering, "Slow down."</p><p>Sam nodded and took smaller sips before he exhaled and clumsily set it on the floor, taking a deep breath that made his stomach twist into knots. His face crumpled and he clutched at his gut, pulling up his legs and clenching his fists, focusing on filling his lungs with air and then exhaling. </p><p>"You good?" Dean asked slowly, eyeing him with caution.</p><p>Sam nodded as he carded a hand through his sweaty hair and whispered, "I- I think so."</p><p>"Okay. Back to bed," Dean decided, reaching and helping his younger sibling to his feet, looping an arm around him as he guided him back to the mattress and grabbed him an old sweatshirt that he rarely ever wore. "You're gonna sweat this thing out, got it?"</p><p>Sam scowled but took the hoodie and yanked it over his head before he toppled sideways onto the blankets and pillows, exhausted. He curled up, shutting his eyes, folding himself around his throbbing stomach. He felt three heavy blankets tossed onto his head sloppily and a frown formed on his face. He would have rolled his eyes if they were open and he brought the fabric down to his chin, Dean yanking them down over him. The bed sunk on one side as his older brother took a seat near the edge. </p><p>For a second, neither one of them talked, especially after Dean's eyes fell to the trashcan that held the bloody tissues. When Dean had left earlier, Sam had sat up and started coughing, red liquid splattering each one as he hacked into them. He had never gotten around to throwing them out like he had done for the past couple weeks. Not that it mattered now; Dean knew, but it still was like salt in the wound for the older hunter. </p><p>His brother focused on it, pursed his lips, and narrowed his gaze at the mountain of red. But he said nothing. And that was worse than getting yelled at. Sam knew he should be concerned about what was happening with him, but he wasn't. He had just accepted it. He wasn't okay. He knew Dean couldn't accept that though. Everything Dean did was based around watching out for him. </p><p>The young Winchester was the one to break the silence and he reached with a shaking hand to hit his brother's knee since it was closest. Dean looked down and Sam couldn't read his gaze since there were so many emotions filling it. He winced and mumbled sincerely, "Sorry I didn't tell you, Dean."</p><p>Dean considered the apology, giving him a halfhearted nod. "We'll talk about it later." </p><p>Sam hated that, but he wasn't about to argue- more like he couldn't; his body was already shutting off on him. He barely could keep his eyes open. Dean stood and put the thermometer down on the bedside table before he pointed at him and instructed, "Don't take off any of those blankets. I'm gonna make some food and you can try and eat when you get up. But for right now get some sleep."</p><p>"Okay. Thanks," Sam mumbled, closing his eyes as he shivered, ducking lower into the blankets. </p><p>"Yeah," Dean said, his voice gentler than usual but still gruff. He looked at his brother for a second before he turned off the lamp and walked out. He shut the door softly and stood there for a second before he shifted to the side and put his back against the wall, running his hands through his hair and taking a deep breath. </p>
<hr/><p>"Hey sicko."</p><p>Sam looked up from where he was sitting up in bed, reading one of the documents about the gate of hell that they had dug up from the archives. He had a blanket around his shoulders and he felt it shift as he raised his gaze to see Dean push the door open with a tray of food.</p><p>"Thought you were supposed to be sleeping," his older brother narrowed his eyes. </p><p>Sam assured him quickly, "Just woke up a couple minutes ago."</p><p>The older hunter, nodded, satisfied, and he set the tray down on Sam's bed, forcing him to move the pages he was looking at, which Dean promptly confiscated, moving it to the other side of the room. Sam made a face, but he was at least glad his brother was in a better mood; the anger had seemingly eased since they had last talked.</p><p>Dean pointed at the bowl proudly and announced, "John Winchester's famous cure-all kitchen sink stew. And I made one of those gross green crap slushie- smoothie- whatever you call them things."</p><p>Sam would have smiled if his stomach hadn't done a somersault, and he immediately pursed his lips and grimaced, swallowing down nausea. A headache started forming just from the smell and he winced, slowly pushing it away. </p><p>Dean sighed and grabbed the spoon, "You want me to do the airplane thing-"</p><p>"No, I'm just not hungry," Sam said quietly, trying to stare anywhere but the food that made his stomach want to get out of his body. </p><p>He continued to push the tray further but Dean's hand stopped it on the other side with a raised eyebrow. The older hunter shook his head, "I know you don't want to, but you have to eat."</p><p>"I don't like throwing up though," Sam muttered sadly, hating his voice.</p><p>Dean didn't tease him about it. Instead he nodded and said, "No one likes it, Sammy. But if you throw up without anything in your stomach, that'll turn your insides to crap. You need to eat if you're gonna beat this thing-"</p><p>"I'm not sick," Sam mumbled.</p><p>He immediately regretted opening his mouth and Dean snorted loudly in response. "Don't give me that. The coughing up blood? Shaky legs? Throwing up? Chills? Fever? Should I continue?" his older brother demanded, crossing his arms. </p><p>Sam flinched as he raised himself with shaky arms, tightening his blanket as he shook his head, "No, Dean, I mean this isn't a cold. Or a flu, or whatever it is you're supposed to feed," he said weakly. "This is part of it all. Those first two trials, they're not just things I did. They're doing something to me. They're changing me, Dean."</p><p>The older Winchester tried to mask the next expression that bled onto his face and failed. He looked down for a beat before he locked eyes with his sibling and shrugged, "Okay. Fine. But you can't do the third trial like this, Sam. Hell, you can't even work a case. We're on the rails with this thing, and the only way out of it is through it, believe me, I know."</p><p>Sam looked at him with something along the lines of guilt and pity, and he was met by a glare. Dean shook his head and scowled, "And don't- don't look at me like that. I wanted to be the one to do this, it ended up being you. Am I okay with that?" Dean asked furiously, both of them knowing the answer. "No."</p><p>"But I can do it," Sam insisted, eyes starting to sting as he avoided his older brother's gaze, afraid to see doubt. "I can do this, I told you I could and I will, Dean."</p><p>He felt the need to reiterate that. He could do the third trial. He had to do the third trial. No matter the cost. He remembered the look on Dean's face as he killed the hellhound, the blood soaking him as it poured down his chest, Sam turning away and gasping as he held the fur in one hand, dragging the knife down it's stomach with the other until he heard the howl. As he shoved the beast to the side, he made eye contact with his brother in the corner, the look in his eyes paralyzing him. It was horror, it was fear, it was anger. Sam had been the one to kill it even after Dean had tried so hard to keep him as far away as possible. Dean never wanted him to be the one to do this, but here they were. </p><p>He had insisted on being the one to go through with the trials because he saw a best case scenario after completing it. At least, he had. He <em>had</em> believed, but that was before the weight of the second trial, before everything kicked in, before it started to feel like he was going down a one way street, before he started being okay with a one way street. His hope was on a thin thread, tied to a rock that he needed to be stable. And that was Dean. If Dean didn't believe in him, then Sam had nothing.</p><p>"I know," Dean said almost instantly and Sam's head snapped up. The older Winchester smirked, "Sam, I don't doubt you for a second. I know you can do these trials, I'm just worried about what it's costing."</p><p>"It's worth the risk-" the young hunter protested.</p><p>"Sammy, you know how bad I wanna slam the door on all those bastards," Dean told him firmly. "But the reason why I am even letting you go through with this is because you saw a light at the end of the tunnel when we started this mess. But if you turn this into a suicide mission, I am calling it off. And that's what it's starting to look like."</p><p>Well he knew him like the back of his hand. He was his older brother after all. Dean's words hit home and Sam steeled himself. "There's a difference between a suicide mission and accepting the fact that this is what it takes to get it done," Sam said firmly, pouring as much honesty as he could muster into his tone because if he could make Dean believe it, maybe he could believe it too.</p><p>"So help me see that!" Dean nodded. "I'm feeling useless, Sam. You can't expect me to be okay with the fact that my little brother is coughing up blood and nearly killing himself trying to do these trials! You can't ask that of me. I don't know what's up with you, if you're sick or not, if you're okay or not. So I stick to what I know, I do my job, which is to carry you through this. You got that?"</p><p>The young hunter stared at him and nodded slowly. </p><p>"You gotta let me take care of you, man. You gotta let me help you get your strength back," Dean urged him.</p><p>"Okay," Sam decided. </p><p>His older brother raised an eyebrow, "Okay?"</p><p>"Okay," Sam agreed, before he looked up with a mischievous smile. "So, what, you gonna read me bed time stories and get all mushy gushy?"</p><p>"I'll throw a book in your face and I'll tell you to stop being an idiot, how's that?" Dean asked with a smirk, sitting down with his arms crossed on the edge of Sam's bed, pushing his legs over.</p><p>"That works," Sam laughed, a smile breaking onto his face. The chuckle quickly turned into a cough and he sat up, immediately doubling over, clutching his chest. He felt Dean's hand on his arm, fisting his sleeve as his older brother shifted forward. Sam took the tissue offered, spitting blood into it before crumpling up and tossing it into the trash can and sinking back down with a wince. </p><p>"Don't touch me with that hand," Dean joked. </p><p>Sam smirked and teased, "Too gross for you germophobe?"</p><p>"Nah, it takes a lot for me to get grossed out. I just watched you vomit up your insides," Dean pointed out. "And remember when we were driving after that weekend, and you made me pull into a gas station because you ate that diner food that I told you not to eat but you did anyway just to-"</p><p>Sam grabbed his stomach at the memory and groaned, turning into his pillow and letting out a muffled, "Yeah- yeah, shut up-" </p><p>Dean laughed a bit and shook his head, "I was at your side in that gross bathroom for almost an hour-"</p><p>"Stop," Sam pleaded, swinging his arm weakly in an attempt to hit his brother. </p><p>The older Winchester put up his hands as he easily avoided the halfhearted slaps, "Okay, okay." He grinned and looked at the stew, asking innocently, "Want some food?" Sam raised his head from the pillow to give him a death look. Dean internally patted himself on the back for his perfect humor before he motioned for the side table, "Well the doctor is in. Check your temperature again."</p><p>The older brother look won out yet again and Sam reached for it clumsily, sticking it under his tongue, curling in his blankets with a frown until it beeped. Then he shoved it toward Dean since the numbers were blurry and his sibling took it and blinked, squinting at the result. </p><p>"One hundred and one," he read, shutting it off. "Still sucks, just...less," Dean shrugged, patting him on the knee. "Good job, Sammy."</p><p>"Thanks," Sam slurred. "Hey, you never said- is it a case?"</p><p>"Yeah," Dean nodded, scratching the back of his head. "Everything checks out. It's a couple of vamps, and I've got Bobby remotely tracking a license plate for the nest."</p><p>"You're not going in alone," Sam said immediately. The older Winchester looked up at him in annoyance and protest and Sam shook his head. "I know I can't go Dean, but that doesn't mean you're going solo. You're not," he clarified, managing a glare that he held until his brother's gaze softened. </p><p>"Fine, <em>mom</em>," Dean rolled his eyes and huffed in exasperation, rubbing his hands on his thighs, "I'll ask around." Then he turned to his younger sibling and looked him over. "I'm gonna grab some beer, you want anything?"</p><p>"Can you give me back those papers?" Sam asked, pointing weakly to the packets he had been looking at before Dean moved them. </p><p>"No," Dean said dismissively.</p><p>"Well then what am I supposed to do? Sit here and twiddle my thumbs?" Sam demanded with a huff.</p><p>"We're gonna binge Netflix," Dean told him, waving his hand in the vague direction of the documents from the library. "Try and not think about the trial for two seconds, okay? I'll get you a beer and a Reese's or something."</p><p>Sam broke into an annoyed smile as he shook his head and pulled a blanket around him. His brother left the room and Sam looked down at the stew, making a face as his stomach flipped. He reached for the spoon and tugged the tray closer, controlling his breathing as he took a few gulps of it before sipping a bit on the smoothie which wasn't half bad. Dean making a vegetable smoothie...maybe he could close the gates of hell.</p><p>The young Winchester forced himself to eat a few more spoonfuls and sipped a bit more of the smoothie before he pushed the tray away and sucked in a breath, his stomach aching just slightly. Sam leaned back and felt his eyelids get heavy. Maybe he'd just take a nap until Dean got back...a two second nap sounded good. The minute he snuggled deeper into the pillow, his head sunk further and his chin nodded off to the side, eyes slipping closed.</p><p>Dean came in a couple minutes later with a case of beer and Reese's as promised, some steeping tea, and pills for the stomach ache he knew was going to plague his brother. He opened the door to see Sam sleeping and eased his step, a content expression of satisfaction playing on his lips. He quietly crossed the room, pulling up a chair next to his brother's bed as he set everything down on the floor. Sam rolled over, dark hair covering his eyes and the blanket slipped from his shoulders, the young hunter flinching from the cold. Dean reached and pulled it back up out of habit, watching his brother relax and fall back asleep with a small sigh.</p><p>The older Winchester twisted in his chair and grabbed the TV remote, clicking it on and waiting for the red logo to appear on the screen. Slowly easing his heels onto the edge of Sam's bed so he didn't wake him he muttered, "Not your fault you're sleeping while I start a new show."</p><p>As he waited for the TV, he looked over and saw the smoothie was 1/3 of the way done, and the hot stew was half eaten as well, the spoon leaning against the bowl. </p><p>Dean gave a cocky nod of his head and announced, "Still got it."</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hope you liked! Next one will be longer i promise and a little angstier teehee<br/>Love you all, please drop a comment i love hearing from you guys and i hope you have a wonderful holiday season and an awesome break! Merry Christmasssss &lt;3 &lt;3 &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0017"><h2>17. Blood Brother Part 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>HI IM BACKKKKKKK &lt;3 kinda soon i know hello awesome readers<br/>Immmmmm very excited for you to read this one, and cool thing is its actually two parts and the next part is [kind of sort of halfway but i know exactly to write so im gonna say its almost] finished and will hopefully be posted very very soon!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!<br/>This has been such a rollercoaster to write like super crazy but I had an absolute BLAST so i hope you enjoy, dont kill me after reading it i love yall and thank you for the support!??!?! All ur comments have been amazing yall are the absolute best so thank you so much! Okay ill shut up. Can someone tell me why i want coffee at midnight tho lol<br/>Enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"There's a hotel in two miles."</p><p>"Kay."</p><p>"I'm turning it up a degree."</p><p>"Free country."</p>
<hr/><p>Sam turns, biting his lip hard to hold back a scoff before he quickly leans his head against the car window to keep himself from shaking it. He presses it hard against the glass until his scalp hurts, and he continues, the slow ache distracting. The young Winchester was crawling in his own skin, his jaw sore from it being clenched so hard, palms with nail marks from where his fists curled. Dean was like a time bomb; Sam seemed to set him off no matter what he said. The young hunter was forced to watch his every word, walking around on his toes, picking his battles. He had had enough of the tense conversations, like the one before the hunt they had just finished which had gone south, making them both hit rock bottom. </p><p>
  <em>"I caught wind of a case on this police scanner. Sounds like our kind of thing."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"I wasn't even gone ten minutes."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Okay. That matters why?"</em>
</p><p>The Winchesters' relationship was broken. They were on a hunting spree, every five seconds, researching, tracking, killing- specifically so they didn't have to talk. They barely had time to sleep, but Dean had made it an oath to avoid his younger brother it seemed. If Sam came back from researching at the library, his older sibling just happened to be in the shower. When Sam slid his laptop aside and looked up for his brother, Dean was gone, probably at some bar, or just driving the Impala down the long strip of road outside of the motel. He came back in late and went straight to sleep, Sam not saying a word, barely looking at him. Or if they <em>were</em> in the same room, Dean had on his headphones and faced away from him. It was deliberately done by the two of them- Sam had followed suite- it was nasty, and it was eating them both alive. But whoever broke first, lost, and both were too stubborn to cave so the only exchanges they allowed were hunt related. </p><p>"I<em> don't know, Dean. How about because you haven't said a word to me since Prentiss Island?"</em></p><p>Sam missed even the arguments at this point. How crazy and outlandish was that? He missed being outrageously annoyed with his brother, because now he was always downright furious. He was remembering the last argument they had before all hell broke loose a couple hours ago, before they were both pushed over the edge and into what seemed like permanent silence. Sam would take the awkward glances and the tense conversations that lead to an argument over the silent treatment any day of the week, because quiet car rides and hotel rooms made him want to drive off a cliff.</p><p>
  <em>"And now, what? You want me to shut up and ride shotgun and act like nothing happened?"</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"You want to talk about Benny? Fine. Let's talk."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Okay. How about he's a vampire?"</em>
</p><p>Benny. Sam had shook his hand on that dock, every instinct telling him to grab his knife and swing- chop that man's head clean off his body. But with the way that Dean looked Benny, like a friend, no- like how he used to look at Sam, like a brother...it made him hesitate in confusion. And then he got the older sibling glare along with Dean's sharp command and Sam cursed every fiber in his body that made him ease up. He still listened to Dean, no matter how pissed he was at him, but he didn't let the older hunter off without a harsh glare. Benny, Dean's so called friend, was a vampire. Sam didn't trust him, Sam didn't like him, and Sam hated the way that Dean grinned at him like they were best buds, like they had been through hell and back together.</p><p>He knew they had practically been through hell, and of course he was grateful to Benny for getting Dean out, even if the older Winchester probably wouldn't believe him that he was. But he still felt uneasy around him. </p><p>
  <em>"He's also the reason I'm topside and not roasting on a spit in Purgatory. Anything else?"</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Don't pretend I don't get it. I know you had to do what you had to down there."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"I highly doubt you get anything about Purgatory."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"But you're out now, and Benny's still breathing. Why?"</em>
</p><p>Because he trusted him. The realization of that hurt more than he had expected; Sam had spent an entire car ride a couple days ago trying to place why he hated Benny so much, and that was what he came up with. It was because Dean trusted him more than Sam, even if he didn't admit it. And that was a knife in the young hunter's heart, like their entire lives had been ripped up and shoved to the side. He knew he had a hand in that, and it made it hurt even more. </p><p>
  <em>"He's my friend, Sam."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"And what about my friend, Amy? She was what? 'Cause you sure as hell didn't have a problem ganking her."</em>
</p><p>This was why he was unwilling to put in the effort to resolve the massive argument they had created over the past months- hell, year. He had reason to be pissed as well. The hypocrisy from Dean's side made Sam's fists curl just at the thought of it. Somehow, Benny was fine, because it was Dean's friend, but Sam's friend, the one who had saved his life, the one who the older Winchester had promised to stay away from, was a cold-hearted monster that Dean had gutted without a second thought. And worse, his sibling had no problem lying to him about it. He would have never told him about Amy had the leviathan not spoiled it in his brother's meat suit. The older Winchester had kept it from him, gone behind his back, and he would have kept it from him for as long as he could. Why? To protect him? He had stabbed a knife into the heart of one of his very first friends, the first girl he had ever kissed, ever liked, and declined to mention it. But now, bffs with another monster, that was A okay, and that was a good thing to keep from Sam, until he was forced to reveal it. The brothers that pretty much told each other everything were now keeping secrets left and right, and it was tearing them apart. And the worst part was that through their anger, they didn't even care.</p><p>
  <em>"Well, I guess people change, don't they? We let that werewolf Kate go, didn't we?"</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"She was different. She – you think Benny's different? He tell you he's not drinking live blood, or something? And you believe him. Wow. Okay. You know, you're right. People do change."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Yeah. I got a vampire buddy, and you turn your phone off for a year."</em>
</p><p>And there it was. First his constant trust of Benny, believing him when he told him that a vampire who just spent God knows how long in purgatory, is clean. Then the kicker, the thing that sent Sam back on his heels. The insult was that Sam had stopped hunting but the 'you didn't look for me' was implied. Of course it wasn't direct, but Dean  made it pretty clear like he always did. That had been a very common jab lately; Dean brought it up whenever he could, which was as often as it fit into their few talks. It proved to be a great conversation killer, something that made Sam purse his lips and gulp down his next words, allowing them to lapse into a furious silence before an argument broke out.</p><p>Did Sam deserve the blame? Yes. Had he looked for Dean? No. But it wasn't for the reason his brother thought. Sam just didn't have the guts to get into that with Dean. His older brother would cut him off before he could explain, and Sam would snap or shut up before he got to it. One look from Dean that was void of all the love, protection, and trust he had looked back at since childhood and he would crumble, not even getting close to the explanation Dean deserved.</p><p>At first, part of him felt like he deserved the treatment...maybe that was why he hadn't forced his side of the story yet. Now it was getting on his nerves, Dean bringing it up as every other talking point. However, he knew if he got into it the whole thing would spiral, and Sam didn't have that fight in him at this point. He was too tired, and he didn't want to screw it up more than he already had. He didn't want to lose Dean. He cared about his brother enough to not allow it to get to the breaking point, although it was getting close. They were close to burning a bridge that he was afraid could never be rebuilt. Sam would never take that chance. But he was worried if he didn't do something, it was going to result in the same way regardless.</p><p>And maybe Dean didn't get the fact that he was tearing himself apart with every accusation thrown at him. He played it off in annoyance and anger, but the jabs were weighing down on him. Dean seemed to not know him as well as he used to, because he didn't see it, and that just pushed Sam further down into the quicksand he was fighting to stay above. Sam screwed up. He knew that. He was wrong, he knew that too, but his older brother needed to stop acting like a saint. Sam had made messes over the years, but so had Dean, and his sibling had an annoying way of throwing everything that the young Winchester had ever done wrong back in his face whenever he slipped up.</p><p>The hunt with the spectre just now had proved that, and just the thought of his words spoken made Sam's eyes sting. He tried not to remember what Dean had said but it was practically carved into his brain. He knew his older brother was under the spectre's influence, but his brother's eyes were fierce and his voice was strong, which made it very hard not to take his words to heart. Dean hadn't said something that hurtful in a very long time. His chest suddenly clenched and Sam blinked twice, taking in a quiet breath. His brother's hateful gaze and words cut like a knife, they had wounded him more than he let on. Dean had been serious.</p><p>Sam saw hate in his gaze, which was very rare in Dean's gaze when he looked at his younger brother. And it wasn't just hate, it wasn't just anger, it felt like brutal honesty. The anger had broken the wall of courtesy that Dean had put up, but that wall shattered and revealed what seemed to be at least the truth. Sam was having trouble figuring out if he meant what he said, and in the past five hours they had been sitting in this silent car, he hadn't gotten closer to figuring it out. If his brother did believe all that stuff, then Sam didn't know if he was ever going to be able to fix this. </p>
<hr/><p>Dean's hands are clenched hard on the steering wheel, knuckles white, eyes stinging as they stared straight ahead at the yellow dashes and dark road. He knew what he could do, and that was drive. He could stay focused and drive, but nothing could take his mind off the bombshell argument he had just had with his brother who was in the passenger's seat. His nose crinkled at his Sam's voice and his mouth turned into a frown. He snapped back a few words, he didn't know what they were exactly, except that it was sarcastic. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Sam's jaw clench as he turned away. What the hell does he have to be mad about? Well, that wasn't exactly fair.</p><p>
  <em>"Come on, Dean. I know it's not you in there pulling the strings."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Shut up! Don't! You never even wanted this life. Always blamed me for pulling you back into it."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"That's not true."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Really? 'Cause everything you've ever done since you climbed into my ride has been to deceive me."</em>
</p><p>It had never really been this way with Sam. Not this bad, at least. Even him in the seat next to him seemed foreign now. The low rumble of the Impala was making Dean's head hurt, the car was void of music, which was a rarity, and there was a literal tense blanket of fog drifting over its passengers. Dean hadn't spoken to Sam since the spectre hunt. He had spoken to him before, when necessary, which wasn't very much. It was like they weren't brothers anymore, just hunting partners. They spoke facts, everything strictly about the case they happened to be working. They hadn't talked since they had parted with Garth, dropping both of their smiles as they got into the car. Something had changed, for the very worse, and it concerned Dean as much as he hated to admit it. </p><p>He- well it wasn't exactly him, it was a Confederate soldier- had pulled the Stanford card over his brother. Dean had gotten Sam from Stanford, where he was pre-law, ready for his apple pie life. Even when they were kids he wasn't throwing himself at hunting like Dean had. But maybe all these betrayals were payback for Dean apparently ruining his life. Did Sam even want to be here? To this day he wasn't sure.</p><p>
  <em>"What do you want me to say? That I've made mistakes? I've made mistakes, Dean."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Shut up! Mistakes? Well, let's go through some of Sammy's greatest hits. Drinking demon blood, check. Being in cahoots with Ruby. Not telling me that you lost your soul. Or how about running around with Samuel for a whole year, letting me think that you were dead while you're doing all kinds of crazy. Those aren't mistakes, Sam. Those are choices!"</em>
</p><p>Dean knew that may have not been fair to call him out for everything, but it wasn't exactly a lie. The truth hurt, and Dean knew that he had sucker punched his younger brother (with words before they went at it with their fists), especially on that extreme anger juice that was cooking up his brains inside of him because of that dumb coin. It hadn't made him lie, it just provided him with the ability to blurt out every single thing he had kept behind clenched teeth when he realized his brother didn't look for him while he was in Purgatory. It had taken him down memory lane, thinking about Sam's track record, about how many times he was forced to pull him from the fire- it had started to seem like Sam wasn't the innocent kid that just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, who just happened to think he was doing the right thing. No, Dean had started to think this was deliberate. Was that the spectre's fault? He was having a hard time discerning between what was his pure thoughts and what was tainted red. </p><p>Another thing was bothering him. He had said: <em>Sammy's</em> greatest hits. He had said the nickname, which he hadn't spoken since then, and instead of providing comfort it made his brother shift his feet. The name that usually was an endearing or teasing term now was burning hot and used in the wrong context intentionally, just for a reaction. Dean might have calmed down if it was really him, but it partly wasn't; that soldier inside of him was at the helm, and he kept pushing, his eyesight practically red. </p><p>
  <em>"All right. You said it. We've both played a little fast and loose."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Yeah, I might have lied, but I never once betrayed you. I never once left you to die. And for what, a girl? You left me to die for a girl?"</em>
</p><p>He was glad he had said that. Finding Sam was the moment that he could truly relax, that he felt like he had gotten a part of his soul back that had been ripped to bloody shreds in Purgatory. But to realize that his brother had not only stopped hunting, but that he never once even tried to look for him? Dean remembered their first encounter, after their hug, the smile slowly sliding from his face, his stomach getting twisted into a knot. Dean demanded an explanation and it seemed that his brother had none except for a dog that he hit and a mysterious girl named Amelia who he decided to buy a house with while Dean was soaking in blood in a world of monsters and death. After everything they had done, after everything they had been through-</p><p>Dean runs a hand through his hair and realizes his chest is very tight. He knew if roles were reversed, he would have looked for Sam, he knew he would have done everything to save him. Sam had made up the excuse that this was what Dean wanted him to do, which was start a life. It ultimately all came down to that rule. The 'don't look for me, don't bring me back, just start a new life' rule. The rule that they were never supposed to follow because of their supposed love and codependency. Sam had countered that he had nobody to even fall back on after the whole Dick Roman thing. Bobby, Dean, Meg, Cas, everyone was gone. Thinking about that, Dean nearly understood. He knew (past tense use here) his brother well enough to figure Sam had lost all control as he walked out of that building. He could just see him having a near anxiety attack as he got in the Impala and reversed it out of the shattered sign, and just driving in a panic as he attempted to breathe. There was still a twinge of protectiveness when he thought about that. </p><p>The leather on the steering wheel is starting to squeak under his grip and he loosens it a slight bit, easing his foot off the accelerator as they tore down the long road. He hadn't missed the hurt in Sam's eyes when he accused him of leaving him to die for a girl, and somewhere beneath the sheet of anger he saw a wince, like Sam wasn't telling him everything, like there was a reason. However, he didn't get to see much because his brother punched him and they had gotten into a fist fight. But he had made Sam wince, and Dean still hated that, no matter how pissed he was. </p><p>
  <em>"Come on, Dean. You do not want to kill your brother. You – you've been protecting him your whole life. Don't stop now."</em>
</p><p>It was Garth who had stopped him from killing his brother, stalling him long enough by playing to Dean's weakness. This was the problem. The reason why Dean had hesitated when Sam flinched, when he saw the pain in his brother's eyes. He had let his younger sibling get the jump on him, get the punch in, because even through that veil of anger, even when possessed by a ghost, Dean had paused when he saw that he had just set his brother back on his heels. He was trying to kill him, the kid who had protected since birth, who he had saved time and time again, who he had died for. And now he was pointing the barrel of a gun at his chest with every intent to pull the trigger. He nearly did.</p><p>The point was, that after everything his younger brother had done to him, or not done, the older brother fibers in his body won out. That was probably why he was avoiding him now. Because he knew that if he looked too long into those stupid puppy eyes...he wouldn't break, no, Dean was far too mad for that, even without the spectre's hold, but it was a path towards getting back to normal, which Dean refused to accept. </p><p>There was no going back. He would make sure of that. He wouldn't just forget about this. They either had to get through it, or drop this entire thing. The scary thing was that he felt like he was considering losing Sam..  </p><p>
  <em>"He left me to rot in Purgatory!"</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"All right. All right. Maybe he did. I don't know. I wasn't there. But I'm sure he had his reasons."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Just like you had your reasons for Benny."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Benny has been more of a brother to me this past year than you've ever been! That's right. Cas let me down. You let me down. The only person that hasn't let me down is Benny."</em>
</p><p>Benny. That had been the heavy hitter. Sam had stopped in his tracks, practically froze, when Dean had said that. He didn't know if it was the truth, but the more he thought about what he said, the clearer it became. He had met Benny in Purgatory, and throughout the year they had gotten closer, saving each other's life time and time again. Through blood they had bonded, and not once had the vampire let him get stabbed in the back, and not once had he betrayed him. They stuck together the entire time, becoming a team as they worked their way through monster hell, all the way until they were topside. Right now, he had a better relationship with Benny than he did with his own brother, and Sam knew that too.</p><p>Dean recognized his malicious intent in wording it the way he did, specifically to hurt Sam worse than any blow to the face. "Benny has been more of a brother to me this past year than you've <em>ever</em> been." </p><p>Ever been? Had he actually said that? In his anger even now, Dean was trying to clear his head and determine the validity of that statement. He had said it to wound his brother, to knock him flat on his back, and it had worked. He had seen the look on Sam's face, as his heart practically shattered in front of him. With the spectre holding the reins, he hadn't cared, but now that he was free of the soldier, there was a sting in his chest at the severity of his words. That- that one sentence- was why he tried to apologize when they got to the car. Sam had shut him down immediately, calling him out for actually telling the truth, which just proved that his brother had taken his words to heart. </p><p>
  <em>"Goodbye, Sam."</em>
</p><p>Forget the awful sentence for a second, and Dean mulls over the fact that he had nearly pulled the trigger. If Garth hadn't been there, he very well would have. There was no time for Sam to plead with him, not time for him to try and think of something, no way he could get out of the path of the bullet that would have sank right into his heart. That terrified Dean, even if Sam was too stubborn to think it didn't. Because of that, and that stupid older brother instinct, he knew he had to bring this up again, exposing them to a worse argument.</p>
<hr/><p>They pulled into the hotel lot and Dean spun the wheel slowly to park in one of the spots. He turned the key and shut off the car which let out a low rumble, before he practically lunged for the handle of his door, hating the silence. Dean got out of the car, walking quickly into the trunk to grab his duffel before closing it and pivoting for the building to check-in. He walked past his brother without a glance who probably threw a glare his way since he had closed the trunk. Sam had to reopen it to get his bags and then he just hung out by the car, not wanting to follow Dean. </p><p>A minute later the older Winchester came out and walked straight down the side of the motel, Sam shutting the trunk and following loosely. Dean opened the door to the room and it nearly swung shut before Sam slipped in, Dean setting his bag down. The young hunter took the bed further away and set his bag down as well, before he rummaged through it and pulled out his laptop. </p><p>Dean hung his head with an internal curse and turned towards his brother before he could open the computer. "Sam..." The younger Winchester didn't even look up, and Dean tried again, "Sam-"</p><p>"I heard you," was the low grumble that came back and Sam shoved the laptop aside, sitting down on the edge of the bed. He crossed his arms, "What?"</p><p>Already off to a bad start. He could call it off right here right now. "Look, about what I said," Dean started weakly. </p><p>Sam shook his head angrily, "I told you, Dean, you don't need to act like that wasn't the honest to God truth. You would have said all those things even if you hadn't been possessed." He finally met his eyes and told him, "The least you can do is own up to that."</p><p>Dean nearly snapped then and there but he managed to keep it together. He swallowed and cocked his head, swallowing painfully. He took a breath and adjusted his stance. "Okay, fine, you know what? Maybe I did mean all of it. I haven't decided yet."</p><p>"Oh, nice. Doing great, Dean," Sam said sarcastically but there was a bite in his tone since he didn’t think Dean would actually agree with his statement. "Keep going."</p><p>"But Cas screwed you over with the no soul business, so you and Samuel sneaking around wasn't exactly your conscious decision," Dean told him, putting his palm out. "I'm sorry I brought that up."</p><p>"Thanks?" Sam asked in angered confusion. "But all the other stuff, those were good things to bring up? I get it now."</p><p>"That's not-" Dean put a hand on the bridge of his nose. "I'm just trying to apologize for what I said, because true or not, it was uncalled for. I nearly put a bullet in your brain, Sam."</p><p>"Yeah, I was there," Sam mumbled, avoiding his gaze.</p><p>Dean swallowed and forced himself to keep his voice level as he told him, "I'm sorry, okay?" He tried to keep the annoyance out of his tone because he was sorry about pointing the gun at his sibling, no matter how pissed off he was. </p><p>"Yeah," Sam said flatly.</p><p>"That wasn't me," Dean insisted, his tone getting angry towards the end, annoyed at how hostile his brother was being. It was just thinning his patience and making him want to drop the whole thing. </p><p>"Okay," Sam said, almost instantly, before turning towards his computer, leaving his brother to widen his eyes behind him. It was clear he was just trying to avoid the conversation or get this over with, one or the other, or possibly both. </p><p>"You're an annoying bastard, you know that?" Dean demanded, shaking his head as he yanked his duffel onto his bed.</p><p>"Thanks, Dean, right back at you," Sam hissed, avoiding his gaze.</p><p>"Look, I'm trying to apologize here!" Dean told him in disbelief. This was why he didn't want to get into this, because it always ended up going sideways. </p><p>Sam's head snapped up and he drawled sarcastically, "Oh, you're trying to apologize! Do you want a medal? Do you want a thank you card? What do you want?"</p><p>"What do you mean, what do I want?" Dean asked furiously, glaring at his brother in disbelief. "I don't want anything. I'm being a decent human being, that's all. If you don't want my apology, fine, but don't be a douche about it." </p><p>"So <em>my</em> apologies don't mean crap, but the minute you apologize I should be head over heels?" Sam said, crossing his arms. </p><p>Dean spun to face him, the contents of the duffel he had been pulling out falling into a heap on the bed, "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"</p><p>Sam shoots him a look before dropping his chin to his chest again. His hands are clenched around his charger that he yanks out and throws onto the comforter and he mumbles, "You know what it means."</p><p>"No, Sam, enlighten me, please," Dean spread his hands in a challenge, turning towards him, ready for a fight. </p><p>Sam shoved his duffel down in a rage and shouts, "You always throw everything right back in my face. I'm still having to apologize for Ruby and that was years ago. Hell, you're still mad at me about Stanford! You just said it! You think I hate you for coming and getting me at college. I don't, but you don't believe me. You're still pissed from when we were kids because I didn't listen to dad's every word, or because I didn't want to be a hunter! God forbid I wanted to go to school."</p><p>"That's not true," Dean growled, eyes flashing and he took a step forward up to his brother. Even though Sam was taller, Dean would always be older, and that evened them out. But now Dean's voice had controlled itself because he was speaking the honest truth, furious that his brother had pulled that card. He knew Sam hadn't meant that; they both said stupid things when they were angry, but it had slipped out, and Dean was prepared to counter. "You know that's not true- I <em>defended</em> you when dad let you have it the night you left and I got nothing! You left without even saying goodbye! You left me, Sam!"</p><p>Sam's eyes flickered with pain and regret and he took a small step back, recognizing his wrongdoing. Dean's younger brother nodded after a second of silence and his voice was quiet, "I left because dad hated me and he hated that I wanted to go to school."</p><p>"That's <em>dad</em>, not me. Don't you dare mix us up," Dean insisted, the anger in his voice breaking towards the end. Sam and their father always butted heads, and Dean was always in the middle, left to quell the fights. Dean listened to every order his father gave him, except when it involved Sam. He had always taken Sam's side, defended his little brother, whichever way that was, verbally, physically...   </p><p>"I'm sorry," Sam said weakly, backing off that subject with guilt which Dean appreciated. Their family was nowhere near golden, and Dean had recalled a couple times he had taken shots at Sam for not listening to dad, a couple times when he realized he was becoming more like John than he ever wanted to me. They had their fair share of arguments in that arena but always managed to steer back on course. He figured the fact that they were family had something to do with it. Dean expected Sam to move on but he didn't, not yet at least. </p><p>"I never hated you for getting me at Stanford," Sam told him with a small voice, staring at the ground. He shifts his feet and puts his hands into his pockets, waiting for Dean's response. "You need at least know that," he adds to fill the silence. </p><p>The older hunter straightened and he nodded slowly. "Okay, Sam," was what he managed to get out. </p><p>Then Sam's expression crumpled and he cries, "But I've said that before. And you never believe me."</p><p>"I believe you-" Dean protested.</p><p>"No, Dean, you don't!" Sam told him, his eyes getting their flare back, and Dean hated how easily they were back to arguing. It was so natural now, even he could feel his chest heating up, spine tingling as his eyes narrowed and his fists curled defensively. His brother waved his hand, "You say okay, but then you dig it back up whenever I make a mistake. Nothing's good enough."</p><p>"I think I set the bar pretty low considering it was just," he spread his hands mockingly to support his next words, "give a crap that I was dead." He knew this was the anger talking, but at this moment in time, he didn't care.</p><p>The young hunter's head snapped up and he spoke with rage, "It wasn't like that-"</p><p>"Than what was it like? Cause you still haven't told me," he laughed but it was dry and he wasn't smiling. "Not that there's any explanation that could <em>possibly</em> allow me to understand what gave you the <em>right</em> to check out for a year. You gonna apologize for that too? I'm waiting," Dean taunted with a snarl.</p><p>"I'm so done proving myself to you," his younger brother swore, biting the inside of his cheek as he scoffed. "Trying to make you forgive me, because it's impossible, Dean," Sam insisted. "I'd apologize until I drop dead and that still wouldn't get through your thick skull."</p><p>"Ooo, playground insults now?" Dean rubbed his hands with a daring glare, "Okay."</p><p>You barely apologized for Amy," Sam said in anger. "And you expect me to let that go like it was nothing!"</p><p>"I accept your apologies," Dean said calmly, ignoring the Amy comment. "It's the fact that you have to apologize so much that's starting to get on my nerves."</p><p>Sam nodded sarcastically and spread his hands. "Right, because you're a saint and you've forgiven me and all of that's in the past, right? The spectre made sure to be pretty clear, going through my 'greatest hits'. You always bring everything back up, don't pretend like you don't. And I'm tired of it. It's like you've never done everything wrong."</p><p>"Well I have, is that what you want me to say? That I've messed up too? Because I have," Dean snarled. "There, you happy?"</p><p>"Thrilled," Sam gave him a fake smile. </p><p>"Screw you," Dean told him furiously, eyes glaring, turning around, ready for this to be over because sooner or later Dean would lose his patience and some crap would come out of his mouth that he knew would just make things worse. </p><p>Sam didn't let him walk away and Dean screwed his eyes shut in anger as his brother ducked in front of him and asked harshly, "Do you do this to Benny? Just wondering. Do you give him crap for the people he killed before he went to Purgatory?"</p><p>"Sam-" Dean warned, eyes flashing as he met his brother's gaze.</p><p>"Or is that just water under the bridge because you and him are best buds now?" the young Winchester asked, cocking his head. "Ever consider the fact that he needed you to hitch a ride to the real world and that was it? He used you Dean." </p><p>"You have no idea what happened down there- what we went through- and you never will," he hissed instantly, glaring daggers at his brother. "You were eating apple pie and mowing your lawn, you don't get a say in this, Sam," Dean said through his teeth. </p><p>"I know he's a <em>vampire</em>, Dean! A monster! That's all you need to know!" he laughed without humor, spreading his arms and looking at Dean like he was insane. "We kill monsters for a living, in case you don't remember?" Sam asked him, bobbing his head to meet Dean's gaze in mockery. "And hey, I'm just using your logic," he said innocently. "What's the difference between Amy and Benny?"</p><p>Dean pivoted instantly, "You want to know the difference between you and Benny?" the older hunter smiled forcefully. "Benny hasn't started the apocalypse."</p><p>Sam shook his head with a snort, "You're avoiding my question but that's a really funny joke-"</p><p>"Not a joke. Causing the end of the world was a pretty big thing, Sam. I'm sorry that you can't just wipe that slate clean. But you know what Benny also hasn't done?" Now it was Sam's turn to look away and Dean's turn to step closer and force their gazes to lock as he growled, "He hasn't screwed me over, or lied to me." Sam looked up fiercely Dean said happily, pointing at him and admitting, "It's refreshing actually."</p><p>"I'm so happy for you," Sam told him, the two of them practically face to face now, distance closed over the past minute. "But you want to talk about lies? You've had your fair share, <em>including</em> your new pet vampire." </p><p>"And you wonder why I didn't mention him," Dean said through his teeth. </p><p>"Because you knew I'd kill him," Sam snarled with a nod. He managed to dial himself down and put his hands together, trying to reason with his older sibling, "Dean, you of all people should see where this is going- where it always goes. With Meg, with Ruby- am I the only one picking up on this pattern?"</p><p>"Benny's different," Dean swore, jaw clenched. </p><p>"And Amy wasn't? How come you are making all these calls?" Sam demanded, voice rising as he clenched his fists. </p><p>"Because I'm getting tired of pulling you from fires, and cleaning up after you, Sam," the older Winchester snarled. "You put your phone away for a year, God forbid I'm friends with someone who is hell of a lot better than you right now!"</p><p>The young hunter recoiled slightly, but anger washed over the pain and buried it instantly. Dean knew it would resurface later and he didn't even feel bad because of the look his brother was giving him. "I can't wait until you get the call that he is not who you think he is," Sam said in pure anger, shaking his head. </p><p>Dean sneered, "Yeah, you'd like that, wouldn't you? But here's the thing, Sam, you're just jealous of him. Because I trust him."</p><p>"So you admit you don't trust me," Sam scoffed, shaking his head and turning away and running a hand through his hair.</p><p>"I never said that-" Dean snarled. </p><p>Sam waved him off as his voice broke with a small laugh, "Nice Dean, real nice." He could hear his brother following him behind him. </p><p>"Stop putting words in my mouth, Sam. You just can't stand Benny because you can't convict him!" Dean chuckled at his back, egging him on now. </p><p>"Shut up!" Sam yelled, turning on Dean with a hateful gaze. "When he stabs you in the back," he stabbed a finger harshly into his own chest so hard it made Dean flinch, but Sam was unaffected. "<em>I'm</em> gonna have to clean up your mess!"</p><p>"Great!" Dean shouted, "Then maybe you'll finally understand what it feels like to be me, having to pick up after you all these years," Dean laughed. </p><p>Sam was shaking now and he snarled, "Then maybe you should stop, Dean. Because apparently I'm a screw up, you've said it yourself. You think I need a chaperone and that I mess up everything I touch."</p><p>"No, no," Dean held out his hands to stop his brother who looked shocked until Dean spit out his next words with a nasty grin. "See, you didn't even have to touch anything to screw <em>us</em> up! No, you just forgot all about me and played hooky," Dean said in low and taunting voice that was somehow mockingly innocent. </p><p>The young Winchester nearly choked and he spun around, hands clenched so hard his knuckles were white. "Well at least you got to spend time with Benny, who's also a saint, I take it. Just ignore the fangs and he's a match made in heaven. Real stand up guy. I can't wait for him to betray you, Dean," he said, forcing a smile as he hisses, "I'll be there to say I told you so."</p><p>Dean winked as he started to turn away, "Sorry, Sam. He's not you."</p><p>"No, he's <em>better,</em> apparently!" Sam shouted in fury, turning so Dean was forced to face him. "I'm so glad you've got a new brother," Sam choked out, eyes stinging, "That's what he is, isn't he?"</p><p>"Well you're pretty spot on there, I'm glad we're finally on the same page," Dean smiled and Sam's face broke. The older Winchester turned away, knowing he already did enough damage.</p><p>But then the young hunter called after him, "Screw Sam since he's messed up one too many times, let's go with the vamp. Yeah, real nice, Dean. He's not your brother. He's a sub because you're pissed at me."</p><p>It was a cry for him to agree, that Benny wasn't his brother, and although Sam was right through blood, Dean's anger got the best of him. This was the moment he had been dreading because this is how their arguments went. Sam would jab and jab and jab, small wounds over the course of the argument, heated at times, but mostly even and just constantly pissed. Dean would defend himself and counter, but there would come a point where the rubber band would snap and he poured so much hate into his voice that Sam actually stopped walking towards him. His gaze was red, like the coin still had control over him, which it didn't.  </p><p>"Well you know what, Sam? I will say it again, he <em>was</em> a better brother to me this past year than you've <em>ever </em>been! And that's not the spectre talking, that's me!" Dean blurted out, eyes flashing as he got face to face with his younger sibling. </p><p>Sam's flare broke and his lip curled as he took a step back, shrinking away from his older brother. He had seen that gaze the first time he had said it; being possessed by the soldier was kind of like looking through a dirty camera lens. He had seen Sam's face, but last time there had been a flicker of hope that maybe Dean hadn't meant it. Now he saw that expression clearly, and it was void of hope. His brother was absolutely crushed. Dean registered his words and as his younger sibling backed for his bed in disgust. Dean closed his eyes and put a hand to his forehead, trying to massage his temple, head echoing with deafening yells. He sighed apologetically, "Sam-"</p><p>"What? You gonna apologize for that too?" Sam asked quietly, gaze furious and hurt. </p><p>He needed to leave. Now. Dean fumed, staring at him in anger, before he shook his head and grabbed his coat, yanking it on before slamming his hand down on the table on top of his key to the hotel, "No, I'm done apologizing. Find us a case unless you need a second to cry into your pillow." He winced since he was turned around at the last part. This was why he needed to leave. Sam had pushed him over the edge. </p><p>"Dean, you've been driving for hours, you need to sleep, don't be an idiot," Sam called after him in anger, ignoring his previous jab. It was more of a plead, but Dean knew it was better that he got out of the room for a while to calm down. </p><p>Dean spun on him, voice tight, "Last I checked, I don't need your A okay to go get a drink." He turned and walked out, slamming the door behind him.</p>
<hr/><p>The older Winchester set down the beer he had been nursing and lowered his head, wiping his mouth. He put up his hand, signalling for another and the bartender nodded. A second later the man slid over his...he didn't know what number, shot glass. Dean clasped his hand around it and tilted his head back, downing the alcohol in a second and slamming the small glass down on the counter. He winced at the fire that went down his throat and he shook his head to clear the fog in his brain.</p><p>Dean scratched the back of his neck, his arm aching. He exhaled sharply and adjusted his seat on the stool, raising the empty glass again. The man came over and leaned on the bar, both forearms against the counter, raising an eyebrow. "You might want to ease up a bit, man."</p><p>"It's been a long night," Dean mumbled, glaring at the man with misdirected anger. The bartender nodded slowly and tapped the counter. He straightened and poured another glass, sliding it down the bar. </p><p>Dean reaches for it but a hand lashed out, catching the glass before it could reach him. Someone sank down into the seat next to him and downed the glass and Dean's head snapped over. </p><p>"How many of these have you had?" Sam asked, scrunching up his nose as he moved the empty shot glass forward with his finger. </p><p>The bartender glanced at him and Dean had no choice but to give him an assuring wave that he did know the guy who had just stolen his drink. Dean took another swig of his beer and shrugged, "None of your business. And I didn't ask you to come."</p><p>"Yeah, but you've been gone for four hours," Sam smiled fakely through his teeth.</p><p>"And you care, why?" Dean slurred. </p><p>Sam curled his fists and looked down to compose himself before he snarled, "Because I caught us a case, in this town actually."</p><p>"Wow, I'm so proud of you. Are you waiting for a hug?" Dean asked him furiously.</p><p>"It's a cut and dry hunt, we can get started tomorrow, but we both need to be primed. It's a group of werewolves. I'd like to tell you more details but I can't because you're not sober so I doubt you'd remember it," Sam said angrily, looking him over. "So can you please come back to the room?"</p><p>"How about you get lost and I'll come back when I feel like it," Dean turned to him, deadly serious. </p><p>"Look, all we're doing is hunting, it's one case after the other. You asked me to find a job, I found a job," Sam said through his teeth. "You've been here for four hours. It's time to go back-"</p><p>"Don't you tell me what to do, Sam." Usually the jab was said in jest in conversation, but this time it wasn't. "I really don't want to talk to you, so just get out," Dean mumbled.</p><p>"What if I wanted to drink?" The young hunter narrowed his eyes in annoyance. </p><p>Dean snorted and got the bartender's attention, pointing clumsily to his brother, announcing, "Yeah, the lightweight wants your strongest."</p><p>Sam glared at him, thanking the bartender, who slid across a bigger glass that sloshed over it's side, with a nod as he stopped it with his hand. The young Winchester picked it up and downed it faster than Dean was expecting before slamming it on the bar top in front of his older sibling.</p><p>"Well dang, Sam, I'm impressed," Dean slurred, rolling his eyes and taking another gulp from his bottle he was nearly finished with.</p><p>"Don't worry, I've gotten better," Sam sneered furiously. His voice had venom in it, a surprising amount and Dean looked over with a raised eyebrow as his sibling hissed in anger, "You aren't the only one who turns to booze. It's just more frequent for you. For me, it's only when my brother is dead."</p><p>"Oh, you <em>did</em> notice?" Dean gasped in mock amazement, clapping his brother on the shoulder, Sam immediately smacking him off in anger, eyes flashing with pain. He felt the young hunter's back straighten in fury under his hand before he was slapped away and his sibling flinched at his words. Dean chuckled lightly and raised his beer with a wink, drawling, "Well I wasn't dead, Sam."</p><p>"I didn't know that," Sam snarled.</p><p>"Oh, you didn't know," Dean mumbled quietly, knitting his eyebrows. "Well I guess it's okay then. I was killing twenty monsters a day to stay alive, covered in blood for a year but you <em>didn't know</em>."</p><p>Sam leaned forward, opening his mouth like he was about to defend himself. Then he put up his hands and decided weakly, "You know what? I'm done. I came here to try and talk to you, but you're just a brick wall. You won't even listen to me. So I'm done trying to fix this."</p><p>"Well that makes two of us," Dean grinned, and Sam's frown worsened. Dean turned cockily to face the young hunter who glared back at him with a curled lip, nostrils flaring as he shook his head. There was pain in his eyes and Dean snorted at the agonized look in those big puppy dog eyes. "What, did I hurt your feelings?"</p><p>"Mature, Dean," Sam snarled.</p><p>Dean grinned before he grabbed another shot and downed it, licking his lips. Sam was shaking next to him, he realized, and when he noticed, he sobered a bit. Dean nearly apologized for what he had said; there was a small pinch in his chest of regret. Sam spoke before he could though, which made him swallow his words.</p><p>"Fine, I'll leave. Enjoy getting wasted," Sam told him angrily, clapping him harshly on the back, making Dean spill his beer down the front of his chin. He cursed and used his sleeve to wipe it off, looking at Sam who hissed to him, "Don't call me when you can't make it out the front door. You're gonna have to stumble home by yourself."</p><p>"Fine by me," the older hunter insisted, words falling off his tongue faster than his brain could process them. Then the hammer came down. "I don't need you."</p><p>Sam froze and Dean looked over at him with raised eyebrows, spreading his arms, drunk. His younger brother's jaw clenched as he glared at him, eyes flashing. His expression broke for a second and Dean made a face back, sinking down into his seat, calling over his shoulder. "Don't get kidnapped while walking home, princess."</p><p>Sam scoffed as he backed up, walking away and hissing quietly, "Yeah, like you'd care."</p><p>"See ya," Dean smiled fakely, finishing off his beer and setting it down on the bar table. The door swung shut to the bar.</p>
<hr/><p>Sam ran a hand through his hair before he slammed his laptop shut. It was clearly a werewolf hunt. Sam was frankly a little concerned how cut and dry it was. He had called the morgue- the hearts were gone, body ripped up- which was a bullseye. He even had a location, but he was wondering why the monsters were so confident with their kills. Usually they tried to cover their tracks, in case hunters were in the area, but after an hour of security footage and some estimations on how far his suspects could have gotten, Sam figured out they weren't in residential areas. That led to a few phone calls as to which warehouses rent payments were actively being kept up and how much people knew about the abandoned sites, resulting into him narrowing it down to two locations a couple miles away.</p><p>After checking out the cars, plates, and tags registered, one down the street checked out: the abandoned warehouse he had circled earlier as one of his two options. It was when he got the other pictures emailed to him that he figured out another piece of the puzzle. There had to be another werewolf, at least one other, because the claw marks were smaller on the second victim. The nail in the coffin was that the same car had been involved in a case a state over, same details, ruled off as an animal attack, another warehouse in that area rented out for the month that had all the killings. </p><p>Sam figured it didn't get more clear than that, and that they were dealing with some sort of pack. </p><p>After all of that, he checked his phone and realized that Dean had been gone four hours. A minute of debating followed that revelation, and he eventually got up with a sigh and grabbed the keys to the room. Sam yanked his coat from where it was hanging on the edge of his bed and walked out the door, eyeing a bar a couple blocks down the street. The car was still in the parking lot, so he figured Dean walked so that he didn't crash the Impala when he came home drunk. Sam started for the blinking sign.</p><p>He stormed back in about 20 minutes later, throwing his stuff to the side in a fury. </p><p>The young Winchester was breathing hard, tugging at his hair in a fury before he sat down on the floor, back against the edge of the bed. He was done trying to reason with his brother. He had gone out there to not only try and fix things, but to take him home, and Dean had wanted no part of it. He had wanted nothing to with him- not only that- but he didn't even need him apparently. Dean was drunk, he knew that, but that didn't really lessen the sting of his words. His older brother's eyes had been serious and cruel and it made Sam wince when he thought about getting used to that look. </p><p>He got up from the ground, fuming, and went to the door, unlocking it and stepping outside once he realized he had never had dinner; he didn't want to mention it to Dean while they were on the road earlier. He hadn't bothered to put on a coat; it wasn't that cold, and he turned left to walk to the vending machine, feeding it a one dollar bill and waiting for the pack of trail mix to fall. Sam sighed, trying to fight that lump in his throat that he had slowly gotten used to and he hated it. There was a low thunk at the bottom of the machine and he scratched the back of his head, bending down and grabbing the pack, pulling it out, the flap sliding across the top of his hand.</p><p>It was when he straightened that a chill went up his spine and his eyes focused. He looked up and saw the reflection of jaws behind him, hand covered in fur raised and ready to strike. </p><p>Sam's eyes widened and as he turned and ducked, staggering back into the machine as an arm swiped over his head. The werewolf snarled and Sam dove to the side, but not before it slashed. Sam felt one claw drag along his shirt, ripping through the fabric and his skin and as he hit the ground. The young hunter groaned, palming the wound on his chest, hand coming away bloody. He rolled on the pavement and scrambled to his feet, sidestepping as the monster dove for him again.</p><p>It got up faster than the young Winchester was expecting, and Sam was shoved in the chest once he got his balance, flying backward into the vending machine, connecting with the glass. It shattered behind him at the impact, shards slashing his back up. Sam cried out in pain, gasping as he straightened and whipped to the side, pulling out his gun from his waistband and firing as the werewolf lunged. </p><p>Three shots made it stumble back with a howl and Sam glared in fury, adrenaline pumping through his veins. He knew they weren't silver bullets, so they weren't fatal shots, but they were enough to piss it off. It bounded away with a yelp before he could fire again, and dissapeared into the darkness of the street, leaving him alone in the empty parking lot. Sam gasped and staggered, each step sending sharp pain down his legs. He finally walked backward, gun dropping to his side, and he hit the wall with a wince, his free hand clasping over his wound.  Sam sank down to the ground next to the pile of glass. </p><p>"Crap," he grumbled in pain, arching his back before he shoved his head against the wall and squeezed his eyes shut. He slowly picked himself up, wincing at the flickering streetlight. He grabbed the side of the wall and made it back inside the room, closing and locking the door behind him, the extra bolt too. Wincing in pain, he ignored the red stains appearing on his torn shirt and focused on awkwardly loading his gun with silver bullets. It was a difficult process; the blood on his hands made them slick. </p><p>The bullets turned crimson as he shoved the silver into the chamber and clicked it in, eye on the door as he crossed the room, dragging along the first aid kit, setting the gun in front of him as he retreated to the corner at the far bed. It gave him space between the door and him, and he had a clean shot. He debates on calling Dean for a split second, which results with him tossing the phone to the side. He stays there for about five minutes, just holding the gun up, barrel pointed right at the door, hand clasped against his side. But when he started feeling woozy he remembered that he should probably patch up his cut. </p><p>"Okay, okay, here we go," Sam told himself firmly, now well aware of the sticky liquid coating his side since his adrenaline had eased, trembling fingers opening the first aid kit and trying to peel apart some gauze, gaze flicking to the door every couple seconds. </p><p>There was a sudden pounding a couple minutes later as he was trying to stem the blood and Sam's head snapped up, eyes wide as he stared straight ahead. He set down the gauze and picked up the gun, approaching slowly with a slight limp. The pounding continued and Sam gulped, pushing his shoulder against the wall and bringing the gun to his chest, reaching forward for the handle slowly. </p><p>"Sam, hurry up, it's cold," Dean shouted, muffled from the other side of the door. </p><p>Sam relaxed slightly although he scowled and he yanked off the top lock before opening the door, revealing his brother leaning groggily against the door frame, wiping his eye with the back of his fist. He paused a little too long which resulted with Sam reaching and curling a fist around his collar, yanking his spluttering brother inside. He leaned out the door and surveyed the parking lot before slamming the door shut and locking it again, leaning against the wall with his bad side turned away. </p><p>"What the hell-" Dean stumbled to catch himself on the side of the bed since he was still off balance. Then he whirled, staring at the gun. The older hunter frowned and changed his initial sentence to, "The hell is that for?"</p><p>Sam glowered as he turned around and Dean's expression sharpened at the blood coating his side. His eyes focused somehow despite being fuzzy as it had been when he staggered home and he stood straighter, noticing Sam's bloodied hands. His voice was gentler than it had been in a very long time and he asked, "Hey, you bleeding?"</p><p>"No, I was finger painting," Sam drawled sarcastically, limping to the side of the room where he had been trying to plaster gauze on the wound, walking straight past his brother.</p><p>"What happened?" Dean demanded, turning with him, hands falling to his side as Sam passed him, as if they were about to reach out for him. The older Winchester smoothly slipped them into his pocket and asked, "You take my kidnapping comment as a challenge?" </p><p>"Werewolf," the young hunter said angrily, ripping a piece of gauze and pressing it against the cut before he reached for the tape with bloody and shaky hands, trying to rip some. "Don't know how, or why, or if they even knew I was a hunter."</p><p>"Where did it happen? Middle of the parking lot?" Dean demanded again, and the young hunter shot him a look because of his tone.</p><p>Sam winced as he tried to patch up the cut, "Yeah. I was just by the vending machine because I didn't get dinner." The last part had slipped out and he bit his lip, catching Dean straighten out of the corner of his eye.</p><p>"You didn't get dinner?" his brother repeated and Sam couldn't read his tone, except for the fact that it was softer than normal like before. Maybe Dean felt guilty, maybe that's what it was. Because for as long as Sam could remember, his older brother always made sure he got dinner, whether it was spaghetti-os, or lucky charms, or a bag of kale straws Dean qualified as vegetables. </p><p>Sam waved his hand dismissively, "Doesn't matter. But it makes sense. They'd been getting cocky with their kills I guess they expected easy prey."</p><p>"You okay?" The question was quiet, but it was still asked all the same.</p><p>Sam was surprised Dean asked, and he was also surprised to see a look that didn't involve anger aimed at him. He nodded and shrugged, "I'll live. I got a few shots off."</p><p>"Silver?" Dean said hopefully. </p><p>Sam gave him a look, "If it was silver, I'd have a dead werewolf body to hide. Do you see a dead werewolf body to hide?"</p><p>"Maybe he's next to the stick up your butt," Dean shrugged and Sam glared at him. "Is this the same case you were talking about?" the older hunter asked, watching him carefully as he flicked away the tape he had just ruined by accidentally folding it. </p><p>"What do you think?" Sam demanded, eyes flashing as he raised his gaze for a second. Then the young hunter scoffs and realizes, "Wow, you were sober enough to remember that?"</p><p>"Yeah," Dean mumbled, still watching him carefully, the gauze soaked red, now dripping down Sam's fingers.</p><p>"If you were sober enough for that then you must have meant everything you said," Sam said quietly with a small laugh that had no trace of humor. He grit his teeth and clenched his jaw, muttering, "Nice to know."</p><p>Dean didn't respond, and Sam's anger had made his ability to patch himself up worsen, hands starting to shake more in anger. The young Winchester finally snapped, throwing the tape down on the bed with a loud curse, wincing in pain as he leaned against the wall and clenched his jaw, pursing his lips together. Dean moved forward, grabbing the first aid kit and taking out a new patch of gauze. His brother's eyes shot open and he immediately snapped, "I didn't ask for your help, Dean."</p><p>"Yeah, but looks like you're getting it anyway." Dean drawled as he slapped his brother's hands away. He started to disinfect it and Sam flinched. The older Winchester looked up at him and told him with a small curl of his lip that nearly resembled a ghost of a smile, "This is payback for calling me Saint Dean."</p><p>Sam snickered, "What, you didn't like that nickname?" Dean pushed the disinfectant into the deep section cut and Sam hissed in pain, speaking through his teeth, "I take that as a no." Dean gave a start of a smirk as he pressed the gauze down, expert hands applying first aid as he had done on him since they were kids. The older Winchester taped up the wound before he wiped his hands and tossed Sam a new shirt; the old one was in tatters. </p><p>His younger brother gave him a glance of thanks and Dean locked eyes with him as it was given, so Sam knew he saw it. Then Dean sank down on the opposite bed and looked down at the phone in front of him on the comforter. His eyebrows knit and he asked, "Why didn't you call me?"</p><p>"Why are you home?" Sam countered, yanking his new shirt on with a slight wince before shrugging. "The way you sounded I figure you would be there for a couple more hours."</p><p>"Answer my question first," Dean said, crossing his arms. </p><p>"Would you have answered?" Sam asked quietly, lifting his gaze. Dean debated this, and he met his younger sibling's eyes which were full of pain.</p><p>He nodded thoughtfully and then lied, "I was tired. That's why I came home. You said we've got a case to work tomorrow and it's already late."</p><p>"Okay," the young Winchester said simply before he bundled up his shirt and threw it in the trash with a sigh, the rips far too severe for a quick sew or patch up. </p><p>Dean followed him with his gaze which took effort with how many shots he had taken at the bar. He rubbed a hand over his hair and mumbled out, "You good?"</p><p>"Yep," Sam said flatly. </p><p>"Sam..."</p><p>"If you're about to start another argument, save it, Dean," Sam immediately snapped over his shoulder before his voice broke and he admitted, "I'm tired too." The young hunter was furious, and he had just figured out why. Dean had just patched him up and Sam had let him. But he had gone to the bar to take his brother home and Dean had denied it. Dean may not need him, but Sam did. And that pissed him the hell off, the fact that he would always be the younger brother, and now Dean was still pulling the older sibling card, always the good guy-</p><p>"I was asking if you were okay, freak," Dean grumbled in annoyance, shattering the young hunter's thoughts. He snorted, "Looks like you're the one begging for the fight, Sam."</p><p>"Sorry if I misread," Sam drawled fakely, "but in my honest defense, all we've been doing is fighting. And that's when we're not giving each other the silent treatment. And when we're not doing that, we're hunting. It's always one of the three, and I'm sick and tired of it."</p><p>"Oh, you haven't enjoyed it?" Dean asked sarcastically.</p><p>Sam glowered. "I've been watching <em>every</em> move I make, afraid to set you off. It's exhausting," he said through his teeth, curling his fists tightly. </p><p>Dean raised an eyebrow and snorted, asking, "This is you watching every move you make?"</p><p>"Whatever. I'm taking a shower and going to bed," Sam pushed past him and grabbed the duffel he had left on the floor. </p><p>"Hey- don't walk away from me, we're talking," Dean said furiously, grabbing his arm to stop him. He refused to leave a fight unfinished. Better blow up then stew in juices. God, had it gotten to the point where he was urging fights for overall benefit, so that they could have small ones that could slowly ruin their relationship, and not one big one that would shatter it? In that twisted way, it meant he still cared, but Sam clearly didn't see it that way. </p><p>His younger brother turned on him, yanking his arm out of his loose grip and demanding, "You want to talk, Dean? About what? Pick one out of the million things we've thrown at each other in the past day alone and we'll be set for an hour."</p><p>"I'll take the fact that I said I don't need you for 600," Dean drawled with a roll of his eyes. He knew that's what was bothering Sam; even if they had grown apart he still remembered the fundamentals of his younger sibling. He tried to play it off in order to invalidate his absurd statement by assuring him, "Sam, I was drunk. I still am. You know me. I try and get under your skin when we fight and it works-"</p><p>"That's what you're gonna pass that off as?" Sam demanded, cutting him off as his jaw dropped. "As you being drunk? Or your way of winning arguments? You didn't even deny it, first off, but no, Dean. If it was me throwing crap like this in your face, you'd lose your-"</p><p>"But you don't. Maybe you can't because my list of world endangering mistakes is much shorter than yours," Dean said sharply.</p><p>Sam snarled, eyes flashing, and he nodded, "Fine, you want to get technical? Let's be clear on who <em>really</em> started the Apocalypse. You broke the first seal Dean, not me."</p><p>"To save your life!" Dean yelled, surging forward and fisting his brother's collar in his hand, making them stagger across the open floor. His chest tightened and he demanded, "Are you kidding me, Sam? I sold my <em>soul</em> to save you!"</p><p>Sam shoved him off in a fury, his voice hoarse from screaming. "Well maybe you shouldn't have!" he exclaimed. "Maybe you should have let me die!"</p><p>"Kinda like what you did with me!" Dean snarled back with venom dripping off his words.</p><p>The young Winchester was already on a roll and he spit, "If you had just let me go and hadn't sold your soul, then I wouldn't have screwed up your life! In fact, how about  Azazel just kills me in the nursery-"</p><p>"Sam-"</p><p>"Because apparently everything is my fault!"</p><p>"Sam!"</p><p>"But you know what, Dean, it's not. We share the blame," he motioned between the two of them.</p><p>"Right, because when you screw up, it's my fault too. That doesn't seem fair, now does it?" Dean chuckled.</p><p>Sam immediately protested, "That's not-"</p><p>"Don't worry, I'm used to it! Because you're my responsibility! So when you do screw up, it does end up coming back to me, Sam, you're just too selfish to see that!" Dean yelled in a fury. </p><p>"You're the selfish bastard!" Sam shot back, sticking his finger in his brother's face. "And I'm tired of you dumping all the crap on me and acting like you didn't do the <em>exact same thing</em>!" the young hunter shouted.</p><p>"What the hell are you talking about?" Dean demanded in anger. </p><p>"Lisa and Ben! I fell into the pit with Lucifer and you went straight to their doorstep! When I came back, I left you <em>alone</em>, because you were finally out, and you finally seemed happy!" Sam screamed before he lowered his voice and spread his hands before clasping one of them over his side, voice wavering. "So point taken Dean, I'm the loose screw in your perfect life. You were happy when you thought I was dead, but you know what, I wasn't! I had the worst year of my life-"</p><p>"You were shacking up with some girl, Sam, I'd say you were pretty thrilled," Dean said through his teeth, eyes wide in disbelief.</p><p>"Except I wasn't! And that was not what it was like!" his brother protested, shaking his head, "You would know that if you took one second to listen to me!"</p><p>"Listen to you? It's like talking to an egg shell!" Dean shouted back, "I don't know when you're going to break, you're so sensitive! You're watching every word apparently, it's made you a piece of freaking china! And don't you pull that crap with me," the older hunter snarled, stepping forward and swearing violently, "you were in hell! In the cage! I didn't-"</p><p>"Sounds familiar!" Sam cut him off with a snarl, "I died. You started a family because you thought I was dead. And I was fine with that. You die. I get a girl in Texas and all hell breaks loose with you!" </p><p>"So it's a blame game now? You didn't know where I was! I could have been in another state!"</p><p>"But you weren't!"</p><p>Dean's eyes narrowed in rage and he shot back, "You fell into Lucifer's cage, Sam, I knew I couldn't get you out. You want to point the finger anywhere but yourself," he told him. </p><p>"That's rich," Sam started. "You're really twisting this aren't you?"  </p><p>"I just want to make sure I get this straight," Dean licked his lips, putting out his hands, his brother snorting and turning away.</p><p>"You're mediator now?" The young hunter demanded.</p><p>Dean ignored him. "Suddenly you're the saint and the Apocalypse was my fault? Never mind about you getting addicted to demon blood, trusting Ruby, kicking me to the curb, beating the crap out of me even though I was right, and popping Lucifer from his box, you're the hero, is that it? And Benny, the man who has yet to give up on me, to let me down, to even accuse me of anything- you hate him just because he's got teeth, and is a supposed threat to the trust that you jeopardized a long time ago- and you say I should gank him?"</p><p>"So you admit you don't trust me!" Sam yelled in amusement, shaking his head in disbelief.</p><p>"It's kinda hard to!" Dean shouted back, eyes flashing violently. </p><p>Sam slammed his palms against his brother's chest which started the older hunter, "Every hunt, Dean, it's getting worse. We split up at least ten times more than we usually did, nearly every dang time. You always go in first, guns blazing, not even waiting for me!"</p><p>"You're yelling at me because you're slow?" Dean marveled, jaw dropping in mockery. </p><p>"You know that's not what this is about!" Sam yelled, enraged. "I've kept my mouth shut, but I can't anymore because you're gonna get one of us killed."</p><p>"Oh really?" Dean demanded, putting up his hands and motioning him forward. "Let it all out, Sam, let me have it."</p><p>"You rely on yourself," Sam spit, taking his offer. "You never ask for my help for anything but the research and once it's done it's back to silence. You'll charge a nest of thirty vamps without a second thought, acting like you're going solo, fighting the full 360 degrees, not 180 like you used to. Have you forgotten that I have your back, Dean? I've had it since we've been kids!"</p><p>"No!" Dean shouted with a laugh, shaking his head. "You haven't! And I am going in solo because I half expect a knife in my back and I half expect it TO BE YOU!"</p><p>Sam's shoulders tensed and he hissed, "And who's digging the knife around in the wound right now? But let me guess, you're drunk, you said that to get under my skin? Well congratulations, Dean. It's under my skin. And you want to know why I didn't call you? Because I know the answer to if you would pick up or not. So I guess the lack of trust goes both ways, huh?"</p><p>"I guess so," Dean snarled, backing up and putting his hands up, palms forward. "But we're family, right? Brothers? So, what, Sam, you want to just call it a day and hug and get some wins on the board until we're back to our pre-hellhound days when we were a well oiled machine?" He started forward with his arms out and Sam shoved him away like he knew he would and Dean grinned in anger. He tried to remember the last time he had genuinely smiled and the result was his heart thudding to the bottom of his chest. </p><p>"You broke that machine a long time ago," Sam shot back with a gulp, hating Dean's mockery. </p><p>Dean faked a smile and said again with a voice dripped with sarcasm, "But I said the magic word, Sam! <em>Family</em>! That always fixes all our problems."</p><p>"You're mocking me," Sam said through his teeth with a nod, biting the inside of his cheek, "But I wasn't the one who always played off of that. You used to say that like it was some sort of cure-all, like it can change the fact that everything that has ever gone wrong between us has been because we’re family. As if that makes it okay. But it's not okay."</p><p>"Finally we're on the same page," Dean spread his hands with a glare. He asked innocently, "Do you feel like fixing this? Because right now i really can't tell."</p><p>"Do <em>you</em> want to fix it?" Sam demanded in accusation. He laughed and suggested, "How about when you're sober, so that when you blurt out all the harsh truths I can hear another excuse that you didn't mean them," Sam shot back. </p><p>Dean scoffed and said firmly, "You're a bastard, Sam, you know that? A selfish, sensitive-"</p><p>"Go to <em>hell</em>, Dean," Sam hissed furiously. He then froze at his choice insult. </p><p>His brother flinched and the younger Winchester instantly regretted his words, gulping. Silence wrapped around the room like a thick blanket. A couple years ago they had stopped using that phrase, and hadn't since.</p><p>Sam waited in a state of utter panic for what Dean was going to say. He half expected a punch and he subconsciously turned his bad side away. The older hunter chewed on his lip and nodded thoughtfully before he looked up and grit his teeth. Sam's eyes were wide and nervous. Dean met his gaze and searched it, nodding again, even slower. His tone was anything but strong as he whispered brokenly, "Already went. For you actually."</p><p>They stared at each other for a couple seconds, before Dean scoffed in a defeated voice with a shake of his head, "Screw yourself, Sam."</p><p>The younger Winchester then broke the eye contact and shoved past him to get to his bed where he grabbed his things. The door to the bathroom shut and Dean heard the water turn on a second later, but he was still standing in the center of the room, because he couldn't move. His drunk mind was completely sobered by Sam's words and he felt blood in his mouth from where he was biting his lip so hard. His own screams echoed in his head and he flexed his shoulder to make sure the hook wasn't lodged in like it had been for years on end. Flinching, he curled his hand and exhaled sharply to try and ground himself, his entire body shivering.  </p><p>His weak legs got the better of him and he moved backward to collapse down on his bed, running a hand through his spikey hair, trying to ease a horrible headache. He grabbed a few pills from his duffel and poured them into his palm, realized his hands were shaking. Dean made a face at that as he swallowed them without water. Toeing off his shoes, he settled down on top of the mattress, resting his head on the pillows behind him, putting on his headphones. Fifteen minutes later, Sam came out of the bathroom, his wound dressed again since he had probably ripped the first piece of gauze off with his extravagant hands motions during their argument; he saw it as Sam pulled his shirt down. Dean was about to close his eyes again before he saw his brother mouth his name. </p><p>Dean pulled of his headphones and started straight ahead as he asked lowly, "What?"</p><p>"I was gonna tell you what we're facing tomorrow," Sam said quietly, voice nervous, gripping the papers he had printed harder than necessary. It looked like they were crumpled in his fist, definitely creased. Dean nodded with pursed lips and his brother continued. "I've got the address of the place, it wasn't hard to piece together which means they're sloppy planners but so far perfect killers. One swipe and the victim is dead, the rest is just...for fun, I guess."</p><p>"You sure it's werewolves?" Dean asked, his voice tight, body heated by even talking to his younger sibling. </p><p>"No hearts," Sam responded awkwardly. "There's at least two of them, but there could be more, possibly a pack. I don't know what we're walking into."</p><p>"Okay. Is that it?"</p><p>"Yeah."</p><p>"Great."</p><p>"Dean, I didn't mean to-"</p><p>"Shut up, Sam. Just...shut up."</p><p>Dean put his headphones on and rolled over to the other side of the bed, his back to Sam who shut his computer and set it on the ground. He too eased himself onto his bed, wincing at the pain in his side before he turned away from his brother, moving to the wrong edge of the bed that he wasn't used to sleeping on. Sam's eyes stung, and he closed them, curling a sheet in his fist. He fell asleep due to exhaustion. Dean got up a couple minutes later and slipped into the bathroom to make a call. </p>
<hr/><p>Sam tried to apologize the next morning as well. Dean was up and sharpening a knife by the time he wok, and eased the covers away, moving his legs to hang off the side of the bed. Dean's lips were a straight line and his muscles were tense. His narrowed eyes were bloodshot and there were bags beneath them. </p><p>The young hunter dared to ask, "Did you get any sleep?"</p><p>"What do you think?" Dean asked flatly, setting the knife down and crossing the room, slamming the door shut to the bathroom.</p><p>Sam rubbed a hand over his hair and stared at the ground for a bit. Dean wouldn't talk to him for a while, he knew that. They were in for a rough day, and they were leaving in a bit to crash that warehouse. Great. Another hunt where his brother treated him as if he didn't exist. It wasn't like he didn't deserve it, but Dean had said some hurtful things too and Sam hated how they were just forgotten since he had pulled a nasty card towards the end. He sighed in exhaustion and frustration, chin dropping to his chest as he rubbed his knuckle into a knot on the back of his neck. His head snapped up when there was a knock at the door.</p><p>The young Winchester glanced to the bathroom, Dean still inside and he slowly grabbed his gun from under his pillow, sliding off of the bed, walking forward, eyes narrowing at the center of the door. Sam grabbed the handle and opened the door, his jaw dropping in confusion when he saw who it was. </p><p>Sam gulped and stared for a second in shock, words flying through his head and trying to come out his mouth. All he managed to croak out was, "Benny?"</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>OKAY SO I HOPE YOU LIKED IT &lt;3 &lt;3 &lt;3 next part ASAP!!! Please tell me what you thought :))) i love hearing from you guys. I hope everyone is staying safe and healthy and are having a great winter break and had a Great Christmas, all that fun stufffff<br/>Sleep is good i think? ahah im not good at advice can i interest you in a sarcastic comment? (i watched friends today sorry for the random references lol) anywayyy take care!! Tune in VERY soon! And I mean like very soon like possibly tmrw XD Love yall have an awesome day or night :)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0018"><h2>18. Blood Brother Part 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>HEYO IM BACK and yeah i cranked this out hahaha. Thank you for reading first off, means the world &lt;3 Im glad everyone liked the first chapter of this it was supposed to only be one chapter and then i was like holy crap its like 15k WUPS okay ill split it. So strap in for part 2! Angst level: high :)<br/>Hope yall are anjoying ur day and staying safe, this is the second to last chapter of the fic ahhhhh (ALTHOUGH ik ill have random head cannons so subscribe!! cuz in like a month ill be like oh thats good and write something hahah in my bio)<br/>OKAY ILL SHUT UP and go get my coffee i think i deserve it because my hands hurt from typing XD<br/>Read on and happy almost New Years Eve! Have an awesome celebration and lets keep our fingers crossed that 2021 will be a MUCH better year than whatever the chuck end of the world crap this one was XD</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sam couldn't find his voice as he stared. The vampire smiled awkwardly and spoke with his normal drawl as he greeted him with his Louisiana accent. "Hey, Sam." Benny's gaze saw the gun at the young hunter's side but inferred that since he looked shocked to see him, he guessed it was more of a precaution and not just because of him. </p><p>"W-what are you doing here?" Sam asked, finding his voice after licking his lips and concentrating on forming words.</p><p>Benny looked uneasy and the man shifted his feet, shoving his hands into his pockets as he subtly looked over Sam's shoulder, no doubt for the older hunter. "Well, Dean-"</p><p>"I called him."</p><p>Sam spun, but he didn't need to because his brother had already crossed the room, opening the door that Sam had been leaning on, making him stumble back. He awkwardly set his gun down on the table with a small clatter and gripped the edge of it to remain standing as he watched the reunion.</p><p>The young Winchester stared in disbelief because there was a wide smile on the older Winchester's face, something he hadn't seen in a very long time. Dean moved past Sam without a thought and went in for a hug, Benny grinning as they embraced and clapped each other on the back. </p><p>Sam watched awkwardly to the side, staring at Dean's back as the lump pressed against his throat. A knot twisted in his stomach as Sam tried to remember the last time that his brother had hugged him, or even smiled at him. Dean broke away as they clasped one another's shoulder for a second before he slid to the side and motioned for him to come in. </p><p>The vampire stepped forward and faced Sam, holding out his hand to him in courtesy, "Good to see you again, Sam."</p><p>Sam forced the bile down his throat as he clasped the outstretched offer and hoped his hand didn't tremble, "Y-yeah, you too, I guess I'm just confused-"</p><p>"Dean didn't tell you?" Benny asked awkwardly, looking sideways at the older hunter. </p><p>"You said you didn't know how many werewolves we were facing. So I thought it might be smart if we had backup," Dean shrugged, not even looking at his brother. He smiled at his friend and clapped him on the shoulder, "Benny was nearby."</p><p>"Right," Sam swallowed, managing to choke out, "Smart."</p><p>Dean closed and locked the door before pulling out a chair for the older man at the table. It was Sam's chair. He didn't know if that was deliberate or an accident, but it made the young hunter's stomach churn. Benny sank down and put his feet up on the table with a chuckle, exchanging some words with Dean, that <em>smile</em> still on his brother's face. The vampire then then put up a hand to pause their current conversation before he reached into the backpack he had shrugged off and leaned into the table leg.</p><p>"I got ya a present," Benny drawled and tossed the older hunter a brown paper bag that had some red logo on it.</p><p>Dean caught it and pulled out a foil covered burger with a sound of happiness, licking his lips and setting it on the table carefully, "Ho oh- you know me so well." He walked over and snagged two beers from the fridge and Sam's chest clenched as he tossed one to Benny with a snort, "There's your present."</p><p>"Appreciate it, brother," Benny laughed, catching it and popping the cap off. <em>Brother. </em>Sam choked on his next inhale at that and nearly staggered but he clenched his hand around the table and remained where he was. Dean dragged his chair over and sank down into it with a rub of his hands and a glint in his tired eyes. "Supposedly, it's the best one in town. I passed it on my way over here. Missed those in purgatory, didn't ya?" the vampire tipped his beer towards him.</p><p>Dean looked up, practically drooling at the sight of the food in front of him and through his first mouthful he muttered in bliss, "You have no idea."</p><p>Benny snorted, stretching in his seat and taking off his hat, placing it carefully down on the table. "Now, you chow down, and the genius of the family can tell me about the case," the man said with a grin, turning to look over his shoulder. </p><p>"Hey," Dean grumbled at the insult, but he took another bite without quarrel. Sam had been staring in silence and dismay at the two of them, the awful feeling in his stomach worsening as Dean tossed Benny the beer and as the two of them joked like he and his older brother used to, with such ease. </p><p>"You okay there, Sammy?" </p><p>The younger Winchester was still reeling over the use of the word <em>brother </em>but when he heard his nickname, he perked up, until he realized who it came from. He hadn't been called that in what seemed like forever, and now it came from Benny instead.<em> It's Sam</em>, he said to himself, visibly flinching, but the young hunter found he didn't have the fight in him to correct the man out loud.</p><p>A wave of nausea hit him as he realized how relaxed Dean was with Benny, how easily they laughed and spoke. Seeing something that reminded him of what they used to act like, and worse, it proved how broken they really were. Sam's insides churned at the thought. Since he hadn't corrected him, Sam instead stared at Dean, as if hoping he would. Of course he didn't; Dean had even missed the flinch since he didn't look up from his burger which was half finished, his brother chewing slowly, savoring, ignoring- </p><p>In a panic, he then realized Benny was looking at him in question and he forced his voice to work and stay somewhat level, stuttering, "Right- uh, sorry- spaced out. It's werewolves, not sure how many. P-possibly a pack." Sam's eyes stung and he opened his mouth to speak but was barely able to take in air.  "I've got their location, an abandoned warehouse a couple miles down. They're gonna kill again so we need to work fast."</p><p>"Sounds good to me," Benny nodded, watching him cautiously, showing more concern than even Dean did, who hadn't even looked at him yet. The vampire suddenly laughed and he reached to hit Dean on the shoulder, "You remember that werewolf near that central clearing by the creak?"</p><p>"The one who took like seven hits and kept coming?" Dean grinned, reminiscing with a nod, folding his arms and leaning back in his chair with a shake of his head. There was that grin again, and Sam just stared. </p><p>Benny snorted and recalled, "You took ages to bring him down-"</p><p>Dean chuckled through a mouthful. He leaned back, his chair scraping against the ground. "I didn't have any silver bullets!" the older hunter laughed to his friend, defending himself.</p><p>"Sam, you alright there?" Benny asked.</p><p>Sam looked at him in panic and nodded slowly, trying to keep his voice level, "Yeah- yeah, i'm good."</p><p>At Benny's question, Dean's gaze finally clashed with his but only for a second before his older brother turned away, calling over his shoulder, "Eat something. We're leaving in fifteen."</p><p>And that's when Sam froze. It all just crashed into him. </p><p>He mumbled something about looking in the Impala for a hospital report and beelined for the door, nearly ripping the handle off. He closed it behind him and headed straight for the trash can where he promptly threw up.</p>
<hr/><p>"So we've got all the silver bullets you two own, right?" the vampire asked with a sly smile, slinging his backpack over his shoulder as Sam closed the door to the hotel, Dean flipping his keys around his finger as they started for the beautiful and sleek Impala that was waiting for them.</p><p>"Yessir," Dean grinned, clapping him on the chest as they stepped into the street and rounded to the back of the car. "By the way," he said sincerely, "thanks for coming, man. It'll be just like the old days."</p><p>Sam swallowed painfully as he opened up the trunk after Dean unlocked it and let his pack drop to the bottom. He took a moment to steel himself, gathering his courage, and the young hunter spoke for the first time in a while. "Crap, I forgot the address. Benny, could you run in? It's the post-it note on the desk," he said innocently, turning to the vampire who had just set his backpack down in a free spot. </p><p>Dean shot a look at Sam in suspicion, and Benny's brow creased a bit. The man nodded and took the key's from Sam with a nod, "Sure. Hang tight."</p><p>"What's going on, Sam, you never forget anyth-" Dean started angrily before Sam whipped around to face him in fury the minute Benny walked into the motel room and shut the door behind him. He stormed to meet his brother by the driver's side. </p><p>"What the HELL, Dean?" he demanded in the precious time he had, his gaze a mix of anger and pain. Dean was opening the car door and Sam's palm shot out to slam it shut. </p><p>"What?" Dean countered furiously. He was surprised by the sudden rage thrown in his direction and his glare steeled. </p><p>Sam sneered in disbelief and nodded, "Yeah, act clueless. Is this how it's gonna be from now on?"</p><p>Dean managed to smooth a mask of calm onto his face and he said simply, "I don't know what you're talking about-"</p><p>"Bull," Sam hissed violently, shoving him hard in the chest, his brother's face turning a furious shade of red. Sam half expected Dean to clock him one in retaliation, but he didn't, and the younger hunter pushed his luck. "I get that you're pissed at me for the hell comment, that's fair, but this is low, even for you."</p><p>Benny had peaked out the window, smart enough to know that although Sam <em>had </em>actually left the address inside, it was for a reason, and when he saw the expressions on the brother's faces, he ducked away and decided to hang out inside to respect their privacy, sitting down in one of the chairs and running a hand through his hair as he flipped the post it note between his fingers. </p><p>"What the hell is low?" Dean snarled, smacking his hand away with more force than necessary since Sam had jabbed a pointer finger towards his brother accusingly. </p><p>"Calling Benny without telling me?" Sam hissed in annoyance. "We could take this pack, you know we could."</p><p>"Thought you said our hunts together have been off lately?" Dean recalled with a frown.</p><p>"Because you don't trust me to watch your back!" the young Winchester spluttered angrily.</p><p>"Exactly. So now Benny's here, so we should all be fine and dandy," Dean grinned, spreading his hands like he had just solved all their problems, not made them worse. "Now if that was your only problem with me," the older hunter's voice changed and his joking gaze darkened as he spit, "I'm actually <em>not</em> obligated to tell you every phone call I make, Sam, so get over yourself."</p><p>"Okay, what about acting like I don't even exist?" Sam shot back instantly and Dean rolled his eyes. The younger Winchester bobbed and weaved to keep his gaze, demanding, "Do you even want me on this hunt, Dean? You're all smiles with him, you won't even make eye contact with me."</p><p>"You're seriously pissed because I'm not soul gazing with you-" Dean snorted, raising an eyebrow at him. </p><p>Shove number two, harder this time, and it did it's job; his older brother's smirk went away and his gaze stiffened at Sam's rage, Dean curling his fists at the sharp palms that had pushed him backward.</p><p>"Shut up!" Sam swore, tired of his brother treating everything like a punch line. "You know exactly what you're doing! All of it. And there's been other stuff too, but I wasn't sure if it was deliberate. I didn't think it was, but turns out you are a childish bastard, so it very well could have been."</p><p>Dean's gaze flicked up at that and morphed into a triumphant glare. Sam's eyes widened and he went back on his heels with a disbelieving scoff. His older brother stayed silent and the young hunter swallowed and nodded slowly. "Well, good job. Are you proud of yourself, Dean?" he asked angrily. "You've successfully gotten back at me. At least share this wonderful version of Dean Winchester with your monster friend, Benny."</p><p>"Well maybe I'm not pissed at him like I am at you," Dean shrugged sarcastically, giving him a fake smile (God, Sam was so tired of those). Mockery laced his brother's voice as he announced, "just a thought." </p><p>"This needs to stop," Sam told him firmly, face to face with his older sibling. "You need to tell Benny to get the hell out of here, and we need to fix this-"</p><p>"Stop trying to fix us, Sam!" Dean shouted, tone furious, eyes fierce. </p><p>Sam blocked him out because he knew his older brother's words would just hurt more and he insisted, "We need to kill these evil sons of-"</p><p>"Benny isn't going anywhere-" Dean sneered violently, shaking his head. </p><p>Fine, he'd plead. "You need to trust me, for once in your God-"</p><p>"I don't, Sam!" Dean cut him off before he could even finish, giving him a carefree shrug as he took a step back. He said it like he was getting something off his chest, with his head tilted up like he wanted to let the world know he didn't trust his younger brother. </p><p>"But you trust a vampire!" Sam yelled in disbelief, his voice breaking as he pointed at the motel door, moving towards Dean in anger. "Do you realize how mess up that is that you trust one of the things we hunt over your own brother-"</p><p>Maybe he would have shoved him again, but Sam was never given the chance, because in a flash his brother surged forward. Strong hands grabbed his collar, spinning him around before he could even react, shoving him up against the car. Sam winced, more from the look aimed at him then his back hitting the car. </p><p>"Benny would die for me! Can you say the same?" Dean demanded in a torrent of words, gaze fierce as he clenched Sam's jacket and shirt in his curled fists, pinning him against the Impala, eyes fiery.</p><p>Sam's hands that had gripped his brother's arms slowly fell, and he exhaled sharply, losing his firm stance. Dean's grip on his collar got tighter for a second before it loosened and he took a step back, dropping his arms. The young hunter swallowed as he leaned against the door, sinking down on his heels. "You really think that?" he asked, throat dry.</p><p>The motel door opened and Sam and Dean both looked to the side, Dean first though, not in unison, to Benny who shut and locked the door, waving a bright piece of paper. "Got it, sorry my slow self couldn't get it faster. Checked the wrong table and took a leak," he lied with an easy smile. Then he rubbed his hands, "But I'm good to go now."</p><p>"Great! So am I," Dean said, slapping on a genuine smile and sliding into the driver's seat.</p><p>Sam pushed himself off the car slowly and started to loop around by the trunk, feet dragging slightly. Benny and Sam, who had rounded the car about the same time, both started for the passenger's side handle and the vampire recoiled his hand, chin raising in almost panic. The man clearly recognized his wrong doing and raised an apologetic palm, giving Sam a smile, "Force of habit. I'll-"</p><p>"No, it's- it's fine, actually," the young hunter said quietly, keeping his gaze down. </p><p>Benny's brow furrowed, "You sure?"</p><p>God, he can't believe he was saying this. He laid back there to sleep when they camped out in the car, stretching out and dozing off. He sat back there either holding Dean because someone else was driving, or he was the the one being held because someone else was driving when one of them was seriously hurt. But he had never taken the backseat on any other occasion; it was an Impala rule. Dean was in driver, Sam was in passenger, except for the rare occasion he got the keys. No one was ever allowed to take shotgun; that was Sam's spot, where he belonged, next to his brother. And he was just giving it away. </p><p>"Yeah...I need to look at some stuff," Sam mumbled with a nod and before the man could insist, he opened the back seat and slid in, wincing at his sore back. Dean started up the car, not even batting an eye as Benny sat in the front seat. The young Winchester felt a pang in his chest as he adjusted himself in the foreign spot. Pulling on the seatbelt with stiff fingers, he swallowed harshly and took a deep breath. </p><p>They reversed out of the parking lot and then Dean put the car in drive and sped down the road, Benny laughing at the 80's rock the older Winchester had turned on, cranking it up a few notches. It was an awkward car ride, Sam staying silent as the two people in the front seat talked like old friends about their times in Purgatory. When they pulled off on the side of the road near the entrance to the warehouse, Sam barely noticed the low grumble of the car turning off; he had been fixated on the floor.</p><p>"Sam, you coming or not?" </p><p>That was Dean, and Sam perked up at his voice, snapping out of his trance and nodding silently, pushing open the door and slipping out. His brother looped around to the trunk, unlocking it and propping it open with a shotgun. Sam followed Benny who was a pace ahead of him, feet sinking into the gravel road.</p><p>When he looped around to the end of the car, the gun left was the spare one, not his own, and he saw his just as Benny slipped it into his holster. Dean had given it to him, Sam was nearly positive, just to piss him off. The young hunter pursed his lips and picked up the gun without a word, tucking it into his waist band before grabbing the last silver knife and slipping it into his jacket pocket. </p><p>Dean shut the trunk and they left the Impala behind them to walk the rest of the way, searching for an entrance. Once they were up closer to the building, the three of them relaxed since they weren't exposed in the open. They had kept their eyes peeled the entire way up, but so far that had been no movement, and no sounds. But earlier they had passed the car that Sam had found on the security cameras, so someone was home. </p><p>"You hear anything, Benny?" Dean hissed, gun out at his side, gaze fierce. </p><p>The vampire shook his head, eyes flicking to the side as they all moved forward. Reaching the door, Dean motioned for everyone to step back so he could kick it in; there was a massive padlock on it, but Benny put out an arm with a snicker. "What part of element of surprise do you not comprehend, my friend?" the vampire grinned.</p><p>Dean rolled his eyes and moved backward for him, throwing out his hand. Benny clenched a fist around the lock and yanked, the metal snapping with hardly any sound.</p><p>"Show off," Dean muttered and Benny clapped him on the back. The vampire pulled the door open and it creaked only slightly. Sam followed his brother and him inside and they shut it behind them, looking around at the massive building that had two floors, the top with rails and locked rooms, the lower a maze of shelves and construction equipment. </p><p>"Sam, I thought you said this was abandoned," Dean hissed at all the stuff. </p><p>"It is," Sam mumbled back, eyes adjusting to the darkened room as they stuck to the shadows and looked around. "They must have bought it as is, like a house already furbished. They only stay a bit and then they leave for the next town and rent out another place, they don't care what's inside."</p><p>"I guess not," Dean snorted, reaching to shuffle through some of the things on the shelf next to him. He looked around and leaned to scan the hallways before his gaze flicked to the steps. He pointed with two fingers, the signal to move. "You check the upper level," the older hunter said absentmindedly. "Benny and I will look around down here." The young Winchester turned to face him in shock and Dean raised an eyebrow in confusion at why he hesitated and asked, "What?"</p><p>Sam pursed his lips and shot him a look before he backed up with a short, "Whatever." He started for the steps and took them slowly, the metal shrieking quietly beneath each of his steps. Sam poured his anger into his grip on the gun he held between his hands. </p><p>Benny was the one to turn around and give Sam a small two fingered salute as they split, which Sam returned gratefully. But then Dean hissed the man's name and he called back with a low chuckle, "Easy, brother, I'm right behind ya." He turned to catch up with Dean and Sam nearly stumbled on the step as he bit the inside of his cheek.</p><p>
  <em>Brother.</em>
</p><p>The vampire jogged to Dean's side and fisted a grip of his jacket, making the older hunter pause in his step. Benny raised an eyebrow and asked, nodding towards the staircase they had left in their wake. His voice was low and gruff, "You really like having your little bro going off by himself?"</p><p>"Sam can take care of himself, Benny," Dean drawled dismissively. </p><p>"Yeah, I know he can. Sam's a good hunter. You told me that when you thought he might kill me, and I have every right to be scared of him if I ever do get on his bad side," Benny reminded Dean in all fairness. "But what I'm saying is you guys are a team. Shouldn't you be the one with him? I'm the help."</p><p>"You don't like spending time with me?" Dean grinned in mock offense, moving forward, gun leveled once again, mouth turning into a frown once he wasn't facing the vampire, not wanting to have this conversation. </p><p>"Dean, I've been through hell with you," Benny sighed, allowing him to walk out from under the hand on the hunter's shoulder. But he continues with his southern drawl, shaking his head, "which means I recognize when you don't want to talk about something that gets your shorts in a knot."</p><p>"Sam and I aren't a team at the moment," Dean finally snaps, spinning around and spreading his arms. "We're going through some crap."</p><p>Benny smirks and nearly giggles, asking in disbelief, "Do I look like an idiot to you, buddy? You think I can't see that?" Then he adds pointedly, "Notice how I still asked the question of why you're here and not with him?"</p><p>"We can have the deep emotional talk later, Benny, preferably when there are tissues and chocolate at my disposal because I'm defiantly gonna need them," Dean hissed in furious mockery, looking over at his friend in annoyance, "Because right now, we're hunting a pack of werewolves, in case you weren't aware. So let's table the girl talk, shall we?" </p><p>Benny put up both palms in surrender and said, "Fine, but you're the one throwing a fit."</p><p>"Oh, shut up." Dean turned and glared at him with a grumble.</p>
<hr/><p>Sam moved as quietly as possible, picking all the locks to the rooms as he went, the same drill: duck in, check left, check right, scan, pause, then leave. He turned down the next hallway and started forward, gun level. There weren't many lights in this hallway, and the floor was cluttered with random objects, the dust getting thicker. So far, he had found nothing and since there hadn't been any shots yet, which was a good sign because he knew that either Benny or Dean would have gotten one off if they were attacked, he figured they hadn't either. </p><p>His ears suddenly strained at a sound near the end of the hall and Sam tensed as there was movement in the shadows, his grip on his gun tightening as he shouldered the wall and approached slowly. The light from the main room had faded a while ago, and Sam realized it had been a couple minutes that he had been walking, now near the other corner of the warehouse which was coated in darkness. The origin of the sound was a small room, the door slightly open, and there was a dim and flickering light at the top, a welcome brightness to the black hallway he had been wandering down. Sam's breath hitched in his throat and he slowly eased it open with his foot, scanning the room. </p><p>He heard the movement behind him too late and Sam spun as something slammed into him. The young hunter concentrated every muscle in his body into pulling the trigger which he did, firing a shot at the ceiling before the gun was smacked away. It obviously didn't hit whoever had attacked him, but it was noise none the less, and Sam had to hope that Benny and Dean had heard it.</p><p>He was slammed into the wall, face first, and Sam groaned, about to spin and throw a punch before someone someone much bigger than him flattened him against the peeling plaster, crushing his ribs. He groaned and struggled, pressing both palms against the wall to push himself backward. That turned out to screw him over in the long run since that gave the person behind him an easier way to loop stronger arms over his, successfully pinning him as they locked behind him. Sam's arms were trapped at his sides and he staggered as he forcefully turned, his back held against his captor's chest. The minute he looked up, a harsh punch came that connected with his nose, blood exploding from the hit. </p><p>He tried to take in a breath, but a knee came up and sank right into his ribs, not once, but twice, and the younger hunter wheezed, sinking in the arms that held him tightly. A hand tangled in his mess of hair and yanked his head up painfully, forcing him to straighten his buckled knees as he was pulled up by his curls. Sam gasped, blinking as his eyesight finally focused on the sharp claws and fangs that met him.  </p><p>"You got his gun?" the man with the grip on his hair asked, staring intently at Sam with eyes that were not human. </p><p>There were three of them, and Sam's chest rose and fell quickly. One bent and grabbed the gun, popping out the chamber and hissing, "Silver bullets."</p><p>"Yeah, custom made just for you," Sam grinned cockily, before his gaze was roughly forced back with a bruising grip on his chin, making him wince as the sharp nails dug into his jaw. The grip on his hair tugged and he found himself staring at the ceiling, a claw dragging across his Adam's Apple, making him squirm. It wasn't enough to draw blood, it was simply a threat, and Sam took it seriously, knowing the mad could slit his throat with a single flick.</p><p>"I'm going to turn you," the man decided, "but first I need to know if there are more of you here."</p><p>Sam gulped against the hand at his throat and thrashed a bit as he forced out, "Nah, I came alone."</p><p>The hand tugged harder until he was practically resting his head against the shoulder of the man holding his arms and he grimaced, struggling as much as he could. The man's voice was light, and he detected Sam's lie but for another reason. "For three werewolves? I've never met a suicidal hunter."</p><p>"Didn't think there were three of you, just one," Sam said tightly. "If I had known it was gonna be a party-" he winced with a hiss towards the end as the claw dug into his throat, and it was almost convincing. It was also very unfortunate timing. </p><p>There was commotion and someone burst in, gasping, "Two more. Downstairs but heading up soon."</p><p>Then another voice, that Sam hadn't heard. "One of them isn't human. I can smell it."</p><p>"Alone, huh?" The man in front of him cursed and turned, "What's the second one? They're working together?"</p><p>"I don't know, and yes," someone spluttered. </p><p>"What do we do?" The voice was panicked and even the man holding him tensed.</p><p>"Run," Sam grinned stupidly with a laugh, his smile turning into an expression of pain as the man dragged a claw down the side of his cheek, leaving a line of blood. The young Winchester cried out, squeezing his eyes shut as the tip nicked his jaw before leaving his face. It was followed by the sick sound of the man licking his finger he had just raked down the side of cheek. The grip on his hair was released and Sam's head dropped, neck aching, his gaze full of fury. He stared around; there were five of them now.</p><p>"Change of plans. Kill him, we'll deal with the two and come back for his heart."</p><p>Sam immediately slumped in the arms of the man holding him, forcing his heart rate to steady because he knew the werewolf behind him heard it. He had one shot to make this count. </p><p>The three of them stormed out of the room, door closing behind them and the man holding Sam loosened one of his arms. He brought his hand to once again tangle in the mess of his hair and yank his chin up so he could slip a clawed hand across the supposedly resigned hunter's throat. But the experienced Winchester reacted quickly, and since he was never searched, he had a knife in the folds of his jacket, and intended to use it.</p><p>He slammed his elbow backward into the man's face before he could sink his clawed hand into his skin that Sam pushed upward against. The werewolf stumbled back and snarled and Sam twisted and ducked a swipe, shoving his attacker past him when he lunged, slamming the man head first into the wall. They faced each other with angry frowns. </p><p>"You," Sam groaned, whipping out the knife. It was the wolf who had attacked him at the motel, and the man snarled with a fanged grin.</p><p>"How's your side?" he taunted, licking his lips.</p><p>"How are the three extra holes I put into you?" the young hunter countered dangerously, readying his blade. The man lunged for him, Sam's arc with the knife was brutally stiff-armed, nearly making him drop the weapon. He caught the hand coming down towards his neck and twisted. The werewolf's fist curled and his knuckles jammed right into Sam's cut he had made the day earlier, the younger hunter crying out in pain as it sent sharp shooting lines of fire down his side. </p><p>"I see it's still sore," he grinned, digging his knuckles deeper as Sam writhed in his grip. Suddenly there were gunshots let out behind the closed door and the young hunter's gaze snapped up in a panic. </p><p>Dean.</p><p>Sam drove the knife down, cutting him in his leg and the man threw him off him with a snarl, Sam stumbling but staying on his feet and planting his back heel, bringing his front leg forward which landed in the center of the man's chest. Sam sent him flying backward but the werewolf was up faster than the young Winchester could get his bearings, using the wall to lunge and tackle him. They both tumbled to the ground in a pile of limbs, Sam's head smacking against the floor. He forced a roll, kneeing the man in the groin as he did, pushing him off him before scrambling backward on his palms and heels. </p><p>The werewolf got on it's haunches and growled, staring Sam dead in the eyes, who clutched the knife tightly with his right hand. The monster lunged on top of him, fangs and claws out, eyes narrowed and sharp. The Winchester stabbed upward as he was shoved backward into the floor onto his back, the werewolf landing flat on his chest in a heap. It let a strangled howl as he sank down onto the younger man, the knife sliding into it's chest, warm blood coating the silver. Sam gasped beneath him and pushed the man off with effort, groaning from the weight.</p><p>He staggered to his feet and yanked the silver knife out of the dead man's heart, getting his balance as he wiped it on his sleeve, pressing a hand to his head as he jogged for the door to find Dean and Benny. </p>
<hr/><p>They were checking around the massive shelves and a back room they had found when they heard the gun shot, and Dean's head snapped up in a panic, glancing towards the direction of the staircase. He immediately sprinted, Benny behind him as they weaved back to where Sam had split off. The vampire suddenly reached for his arm, eyes alert as they started up the steps. </p><p>"What?" Dean demanded, continuing his jog with his gun out and ready to shoot anything that moved.</p><p>"I smell them."</p><p>"How many?"</p><p>"At least two. Probably three, maybe more- I- I can't tell," Benny winced. "A lot."</p><p>"Great."</p><p>Dean's feet were a blur as they moved up the stairs and he didn't know if he should be relieved or worried that he hadn't heard any more noise since the sound of the bullet echoed through the seemingly empty warehouse. He was going to kill his brother if he was dead. Dean wanted to shout Sam's name but he knew that they were the unwanted visitors and that if his younger sibling had been asked if he had hunting partners, he would have said he came alone. It was better to work in the shadows while they still could, but he suspected that wouldn't be for long. They made it to the top and moved quickly to the hallway, Benny scanning the area, Dean keeping his gaze straight. </p><p>It was just about when Dean was about to round the corner that Benny suddenly yanked him backward by the collar, the older hunter staggering as the vampire lunged forward with a snarl, punching the man, who had lunged from the darkness of the other hallway, in the face, and driving him back into the wall where they started fighting. He heard a shot and then a clatter and that probably meant Benny had lost a grip on his gun. The vampire instead pulled out the silver knife and swiped, driving forward with expert speed like he had for the year that Dean knew him.</p><p>The older hunter charged into the center of the hall as well, spinning and firing at the movement from where the last one had come from, the werewolf he caught in the shoulder howling in pain. It was lucky Dean had gotten off a shot because the man had a gun as well, and Dean surged forward to knock it out of his grasp. He wrestled it away, snapping his elbow back and twisting as he aimed it for it's heart but the werewolf dove to the side and drove a punch into his jaw. The shot he fired hit the ground where he had been standing a second ago. Dean pistol whipped him before driving his foot into his chest. </p><p>He leveled his gun and held up the other familiar one, a terrified chill going down his back as he ordered, "Where'd you get this?"</p><p>The man slumped against the wall with a thud and glanced up with a bloody grin, "Your friend squirms."</p><p>Dean's look steeled and he froze in horror. In an instant, he lowered his aim and fired, catching the werewolf in the foot, making him stagger forward with a ducked head and Dean wrapped an arm around his throat, putting him in a low headlock before he slammed his knee into his face, twice. The werewolf went limp in his grasp and the older Winchester lowered his mouth to the man's ear, hissing dangerously, "Where the hell is he?"</p><p>"Dead," the man wheezed with a laugh, spitting out blood. </p><p>"You better hope to God he's not," Dean swore in fury, holding onto the hope that monsters lied through their teeth constantly. Dean's anger coursed through him and he moved with speed, yanking the monster up and flinging him against the rail, nearly flipping him off the side. The man scrambled for a hand hold and Dean gave him one, wrapping a fist around his collar as he tipped him further, gun dug right into his chest, in the center of his heart.</p><p>"Where is he?" Dean demanded again, his vision tinted red. The werewolf dug his claws into Dean's wrist and struggled, but the older hunter was prepared to let him drop off the upper level. He didn't even feel the pain in his hand.</p><p>"Dean, move!" Benny shouted in a panic as he was locked in combat with his opponent but had glanced to check on the older Winchester. Dean reacted immediately and threw himself backward as someone else entered the fight, pulling the man Dean had nearly sent toppling over the side of the rail back to his feet and charging the Winchester he had tried to swipe at. Dean twisted first and launched the gun at the head of the man who had Benny against the wall, hitting him right in the back of the scull, giving the vampire the opportunity to gain the upper hand and flip the man onto his back, punching him across the head.</p><p>Dean twisted for the werewolf coming at him and he fired but his hand was slapped away, gun sliding across the ground. He took a hit to the face, claws scraping against his shoulder and the man tried to tackle him from the side as he staggered from the hit but Dean stood his ground as he locked his knees, twisting and bringing his own elbow back which connected audibly with a jaw. Dean reached and grabbed the man's shoulder, flipping him over his back. </p><p>Benny then moved forward with speed and kicked him in the side, before planting his own punch to the werewolf eager to get back into the fight, still woozy from Dean's knee to his head. Monster or not that had protectiveness behind it, and it was a devastating hit. </p><p>Dean spun around the vampire who tossed him his gun and Dean fired at werewolf Benny had been fighting earlier who was on the ground, groaning. He slumped and went silent and as Dean passed off the gun, Benny using it to slam it down on the vampire's head before firing at the other one Dean had flipped.</p><p>The man who Dean had nearly tossed off the balcony was stumbling by the drop of the steps and Dean surged forward, kicking him straight in the chest, knocking him down the stairs. He and Benny straightened, exchanged glances and a nod, skills perfected after a year of constant fighting.</p><p>Dean's gun was leaning against the wall and as the fighting started up again, the last werewolf rounding the corner and charging the two of them, the older Winchester staggered backward to absorb the hit around his waist. His foot clipped the edge of his gun which promptly tipped off the edge of the first step and bounced to the bottom, the noisy clangs covered up by the grunts and snarls of the werewolf he and the vampire were fighting. </p><p>The hunter held the monster tight as Benny kicked him in the side and Dean let go in expert timing, adding his own hit into the fray, the two of them sending him into the wall. Dean moved forward with agility and a curled first, throwing a punch that connected and bloodied his knuckles. The man staggered backward, Benny delivering the final blow with one of the rails that he ripped off the side easily, smacking him across the chest. The werewolf flew backward, bloodied, and someone else rounded the corner as the man stumbled towards him unknowingly. </p><p>Benny readied the gun he had somehow gotten back in the scuffle and Dean gripped his knife but neither were necessary; the man caught the staggering werewolf before he could fall and drove a silver knife into his heart. The monster slumped to the ground and Sam was breathing hard as it dropped dead at his feet, Dean instantly reaching to lower Benny's gun which was leveled at his brother's heart. </p><p>"Sam." It was sharp, yes, but there was relief to it.</p><p>The older hunter stormed forward and roughly grabbed his brother by the sides of his jacket, much like how he did when he pushed him into the Impala. This time, however, he reached with furious eyes to turn his chin and look at the damage as he clasped his younger brother's face with his hand. His touch wasn't gentle as it usually was when he checked up on him, and the young hunter lowered his gaze. Sam's nose was bleeding and there was a nasty cut on his cheek and bruise marks on his jaw. He was nursing hurt ribs, Dean could tell by the way he slumped partially into his grip. Sam blinked at the unfamiliar flicker of protectiveness in his brother's eyes.</p><p>"He said you were dead," Dean said flatly, and left it at that. It was like he was waiting for Sam to say something and when he didn't, the normal harsh gaze was back and he clarified, "You good?"</p><p>"Yeah," Sam nodded, his voice hoarse. On normal circumstances he would have clapped his brother's shoulder but at his tone he decided against it. "I'm good."</p><p>"Good," Dean's voice was stiff and quiet and Benny patted Sam on the back with a small smile as he passed to go make sure the two werewolves were dead in the hallway. "Is that all of them" Dean asked.</p><p>"We got four," Benny called helpfully where he nudged a dead werewolf with his foot.</p><p>Sam licked his lips and winced as his brother let him go and stepped back. "Yeah, there were only five and I killed one back in the room." He turned for a small head count, "There's two, one, and-" Sam's gaze shot up in a panic as he didn't see the face of the man who had stared deep into his soul a minute ago and given him the cut on his face. He looked past his brother's shoulder and time stopped. </p><p>The man at the bottom of the steps was disfigured, but his shaking arm was raised at an awkward angle, covered in blood, yet still able to hold a gun. And the barrel was pointed at Dean's back since that was the only thing in his line of fire. </p><p>Sam locked eyes with the werewolf at the bottom landing and he was met with a red grin.</p><p>The young Winchester's eyes widened and suddenly everything sped up as he surged forward-</p><p>Hands gripping Dean's jacket, arm, shoulder, shirt, anything he could to shove him out of the way-</p><p>Push him backward, move him, get him down- because the trigger had been pulled-</p><p>The shot echoed and Sam staggered as he launched his brother past him, ending up in the spot Dean had been in. Everything became fuzzy for a second, and Sam choked in pain, losing his grip on Dean who toppled behind him as the young hunter forced him back.</p><p>Benny had heard the click of the gun a second after Sam had reached for his brother, and he bounded forward, firing a silver bullet into the man's heart before he could take a second shot. There werewolf slumped to the ground at the landing, Dean's gun falling from his palm, eyes staring unblinking. On his way to the edge of the stairs, Benny had shoved past the hunter who had been roughly thrown down the hall by Sam, slamming against the floor. The older Winchester was now staggering to his feet, jumping at the unexpected shot, arm raised to shield himself as he spun in confusion.</p><p>Benny was the one to see Sam first; all he needed to do was turn. He watched helplessly as the young hunter's gaze broke, and his eyes widened as they both looked down at the wound. Sam stumbled backward in pain as his knees buckled, red liquid spilling over his fingers as he clasped his hands over his chest. </p><p>The vampire reached for him as his knees buckled but Dean was up in an instant, catching his younger sibling from behind in confusion, his hands that had wrapped around him coming away bloody, realization kicking in as he pieced together what happened. Horror washed over the older Winchester's face as he lowered Sam to the ground with him, holding the young hunter with his back firm against Dean's chest. His brother was shaking in his arms, and Dean twisted to position himself more at his side, while still letting Sam lean against his shoulder. </p><p>"Sam- Sam! Hey, easy, easy-" his encouragement turned into a low curse as he saw the pool of blood coating his brother's chest. </p><p>"Dean-" the young hunter whispered, immediately coughing, which sent waves of pain through his body as he sucked in a shuddering breath, screwing his eyes shut. </p><p>"Yeah, hey, stay with me. Stay with me, you got that?" Dean said harshly, slipping his hand to cup the back of his neck when the young hunter's chin dipped. "God, Sam, what the hell were you thinking?"</p><p>"He was- aiming- at you-" Sam choked out weakly, as if that explained it, grasping for Dean's sleeve with blood slicked fingers as he arched his back in an attempt to breathe better. Dean stared at him in shock and panic. Sam had taken the bullet for him, he had shoved him halfway down the hall- </p><p>It should be Dean on the floor covered in blood, but it wasn't. It was his baby brother, the person Dean was supposed to protect. Sam had shoved him out of the way without a second thought, letting the bullet sink into his own chest. </p><p>"Dean." That was the vampire standing near Sam's feet and Dean wouldn't have looked up if it wasn't for the tone. Benny's voice was stiff but paniced and when Dean glanced at him, he was immediately on edge. The vampire's eyes were wide, staring at Sam's bloodied wound, intently, hungrily...</p><p>The older Winchester swallowed and narrowed his gaze at the craving look in his friends eyes and he hissed, "Benny."</p><p>Benny mumbled something back in response. He shifted his feet, his pupils dilating, mouth opening slightly, the tip of fangs visible. Then the vampire let out a small grunt and shook his head, glancing at Dean in fear with eyes that were clear, curling his fists and clamping his mouth shut. It was clear he was doing everything he could to control it, but Sam was gushing blood, thin and rippling waves sliding over his and Dean's hands, and no doubt his heart was pounding in Benny's ears. Sam stared at the man, paralyzed, as his body self consciously tried to push himself towards Dean for safety, his heels sliding weakly against the ground.</p><p>"Get out," Dean said sharply, subconsciously pulling his brother closer, glancing at the silver knife that had dropped from his brother's hand, just in case. The vampire didn't move, like he was rooted to that spot, and Benny continued to stare, eyes changing.</p><p>"Call an ambulance. Benny, <em>get out</em>," he instructed again, louder this time, almost a yell, the order resonating with the man as it snapped him out of his trance. He glanced at Dean and the look in his eyes propelled his feet to move backward. The firm gaze bore into him even as he got to the stairs, the glare that spoke clearly: <em>I will kill you if you so much as touch him. </em></p><p>Benny turned on his heel and ran down the steps, staggering for the door. As he pushed it open and dissapeared outside, he pulled out his phone, punching 3 numbers. Dean and Sam both relaxed, and the older Winchester propped Sam up against his shoulder.</p><p>"An ambulance is coming, man, you're gonna be fine," Dean told him firmly, faking a smile as he gripped his brother's shoulder.</p><p>"Yeah," Sam nodded, his voice thin, chin trembling as he continued to bob his head, "Y-yeah."</p><p>"I'm gonna stop the bleeding and we're gonna hang out for a while, okay?" Dean made sure to keep Sam steady as he twisted, taking off his jacket and stripping his flannel he had on over his t-shirt. "I'm sure I'm the last person in the world you want to have at your side right now but hey, we'll make it work," Dean said weakly.</p><p>"Lucifer," Sam mumbled. </p><p>"What?" Dean asked, brows knitting. </p><p>"Lucifer's the last person in the world that I-" Sam winced as he licked his lips and took in a wheezing breath, "would want...not you..." The fact that he had even said that and meant it proved how messed up their lives were, and Dean cursed the world for not giving his brother a normal life. </p><p>The outrageous comment still made him break into a ghost of a smile, his lip tugging up at one side and he nodded in sanctification. He'd take it. Dean pushed Sam's jacket aside and pressed the fabric to the wound, as hard as he could, which made his brother squirm beneath his grip.</p><p>"I know, I know, hang in there," Dean told him through gritted teeth, feeling Sam's hand gripping his arm tightly. Dean smoothed a grimace out from his face as he clasped his hand harder over the already bloodied flannel. Sam shivered in his grip, choking and making that sound that resembled a whimper, the sound he made when he didn't want to scream. Dean wished to God he could make it stop. </p><p>"You want to argue?" the older hunter suggested with a small smirk. "Maybe that will keep you alert?" </p><p>"S-shut up, Dean," Sam scoffed weakly, his head turning into his brother's shoulder as pain spiked in his chest, the young Winchester clenching his jaw tightly and trembling to hold back a cry of pain as he squeezed his eyes shut. His head dug deeper into Dean's shoulder who tugged his arm tighter around him in instinct, hand starting to shake from pressing down on the wound. He was starting to feel the blood reach his fingers, meaning it had soaked through the entire flannel.</p><p>"It's- it's bad, isn't it?" Sam laughed weakly, muttering out a curse as his attempt to smile was ruined by him gulping down a wave of nausea. </p><p>"Nah, it's not bad. You're okay. You're good, man, don't even think about it," Dean shook his head, moving his hand to tilt Sam's chin up the minute he tried to look down at it. "Look at me, keep your eyes up," he suggested instead, and Sam's gaze studied his face.</p><p>"Ew," his younger brother grunted with a slight smirk. </p><p>"What's ew?" Dean demanded with a light chuckle, his mouth opening slightly in shock and offense.</p><p>"Ugly," Sam snickered. </p><p>Dean scoffed and shot back, "Well I'm better looking than you."</p><p>"Are not," Sam hissed out but then his eyes were flooded with agony and they widened. This time he couldn't hold back the cry of pain that tore it's way through his throat, Sam tilting his head back as he choked out a yell, entire body shuddering. Dean moved with him to keep him steady, flinching at the sound of pain his brother made, feeling like a knife had just sunk into his chest. </p><p>"Easy, easy, breathe, Sam. Breathe," Dean told him firmly, gulping as the red seeping through the flannel was visible now. He cursed and realized he needed to stop the bleeding, now, and his gaze fell on the gauze that was further up Sam's chest, plastered against his old wound. He moved quickly and yanked his brother's shirt up, "Sam, start talking."</p><p>"Bout what-" his brother mumbled. </p><p>"Anything," Dean told him firmly as he started peeling away the tape, making Sam suck in a breath and grab Dean's knee since both of his arms were working at the tape. </p><p>"I'm sorry I said the thing about hell-" Sam choked out with a cry, shaking his head violently. "I didn't mean it."</p><p>"Well dang, I was hoping you'd say something about hair products or whatever kale crap you eat but that works too, I guess," Dean rambled as he tugged at the next piece which was more stubborn. He'd have to yank it off like a bandaid and he turned to look at Sam who had more pain in his eyes than Dean had ever wanted to see. He forced a grin and told him, "Knock, knock," readying his fingers on the corner of the tape. </p><p>"You're kidding-" Sam wheezed in fury. </p><p>"Knock, knock, Sam, come on-" Dean practically begged, not wanting to waste anymore precious time away from pressing down on the wound that was gushing blood.</p><p>"Who's-" Sam's sighed response turned into a furiously yelled curse as Dean ripped off the tape, immediately plastering down the gauze on top of the bullet wound and then pressing the flannel back on top to a part that wasn't completely blood-soaked, all the while fighting Sam's hands and trying to stop him from squirming. He finally went limp as his older brother held him tightly.</p><p>Dean took a breath and flinched at the pain he had caused his brother, assuring him, "Done, I'm done-"</p><p>"Did you hear what I said about hell..." Sam mumbled weakly, gripping his arm again.</p><p>The older hunter nodded and his voice was gentle, "Yeah. Yeah I heard ya, Sam." He looked at his brother and their gazes spoke for the first time in months. Both Winchesters seemed surprised that they had pulled off their old way of communicating. Sam nodded, some of the stiffness of his shoulders relaxing, and Dean's grip on him softened a bit. </p><p>"D-Dean, you need to know something, okay?" Sam whispered, making a horrible choking sound before he swallowed painfully. "When you were in Purgatory-"</p><p>"We can talk about that later," Dean insisted, turning his head to look at the door, straining his ears to hopefully hear sirens, but he didn't. Instead he was just met by his brother's sharp command. </p><p>"Dean, <em>look at me</em>." The older hunter turned against his will and Sam nodded once they locked gazes, "Y-you need to know. Just- just in case. Remember I'm like a boy scout? Always prepared. This is- this is me being prepared. Let me tell you, please-" he whimpered, curling his fingers around Dean's sleeve, eyes pleading. He didn't wait for an answer, but Dean nodded silently. </p><p>"I didn't know what to do. Everyone- everyone was gone. I didn't know where you were, and I did look for you, I did, I swear, but then every trail got cold and I- I gave up and I'm sorry because I shouldn't have given up, that wasn't fair to you-" he croaked out with a broken voice, shaking his head against Dean's arm.</p><p>"Sam-"</p><p>"And then that day, I decided that I was gonna find you because by then I had a pretty good deal of where you were," he gulped down. "Or at least I thought so. And so I was driving home, and I...it- it was gonna be a one way trip, Dean," Sam said quietly, daring to look up at his brother to make sure he understood what he meant and Dean did, of course he did, and his older brother's eyes widened and there was a slight shake of his head, the hand on his brother loosening in shock and then tightening in protectiveness.</p><p>"Oh <em>God</em>, Sam-"</p><p>A laugh built up in Sam's throat and broke through the blood as he continued the story, "And then that stupid dog...just...ran in front of the car and I...I couldn't leave him, I couldn't let down anyone else. So it was just going to be until he was better, but then he was mine, and then I met Amelia, who had lost someone too and I couldn't let her down and hunting-" Sam choked and his voice shattered, "Dean, I couldn't hunt anymore. I won't apologize for not hunting. I couldn't- I wouldn't- not without you. Every day I drove that car it was just a reminder that you were gone and that it was my fault and I just wondered why the hell I didn't die too-"</p><p>He was nearly hyperventilating, knuckles white around Dean's sleeve and he choked at the words trying to come out his mouth to somehow explain, somehow prove, somehow make up for the fact that-</p><p>"Sam, <em>Sammy, </em>hey," Dean said sharply, stopping the torrent of words. He nodded in assurance, his eyes stinging. "I- I get it," he said truthfully. </p><p>"Sammy?" Sam whispered with a chuckle, a smile appearing on his face and Dean felt him relax a little bit. </p><p>"Sam," Dean corrected with a roll of his eyes but his brother cut him off. </p><p>"N-no. You just haven't called me that in a while," Sam said quietly, lowering his gaze in embarrassment. Dean swallowed because he didn't think that had impacted Sam as much as he thought it did. Of course he had withheld the nickname on purpose. He instantly regretted it. </p><p>"Sorry," Dean apologized softly. And he meant it. "I've been a jerk, haven't I?" he then asked him guiltily with a nod, daring to make eye contact.</p><p>"And I've been a bitch," Sam said with a blood coated chuckle. Dean laughed. It was an honest laugh, accompanied by a smile. It was the first time he had smiled in a really long time, truly smiled. And then he felt Sam get heavier in his grip and the happiness was sucked away by fear.</p><p>His head snapped up and he shook Sam gently, "Hey. Stay with me."</p><p>"I'm staying," Sam grumbled in annoyance from being jostled, but his chin continued to slip to his chest and panic shot through Dean. </p><p>"<em>Hey</em>," the older hunter chided. "I may not be a genius, but I at least know my brother, and that's your 'checking out' face." He had seen it more times than he had ever wanted to, and it scared him half to death each time. Sam had died and come back twice, Dean over a hundred, but each time it happened again there was a heart clenching possibility that they would pull the short straw. </p><p>"Not...checking out..." Sam whispered in defense, protesting weakly by clenching his fist around Dean's arm. </p><p>"That's right Sammy, you're gonna be just fine," Dean muttered encouragement, slipping a hand to cup his cheek as he searched for Sam's gaze, willing it to focus again. </p><p>Sam's expression slackened and his body tensed as he made out a fearful, "Dean?"</p><p>"Right here," he assured him before he glanced over his shoulder at the door. The hospital was ten minutes away. That meant that if Benny had called seven minutes ago, add in a minute for the ambulance to actually leave-</p><p>"We're close, Sam, just hold out for a couple more-" Dean insisted, turning back and freezing. His brother's head was against his chest, eyes shut, and Sam had gone heavy. </p><p>"Sam?" Dean asked in a panic as he looked down at the mess of hair slumped against his chest. His heart went to his throat.</p><p>"Hey, Sammy? Sammy!" Dean straightened, cupping his brother's cheek and easing him up with effort, his younger sibling's chin lolling in his palm. He looked down and saw Sam's unclenched hand slide off his arm he had raised, dropping to the ground. Dean flinched at that, his jaw clenching as his gaze snapped back to his brother whose eyes were closed.</p><p>"No, God- nononono- Sam-" He shook him, Dean's eyes wide and disbelieving as he tugged at his jacket, pulling his brother closer to him as he kept a hand pressed against the gunshot wound. He looked for any sign of movement, of Sam's chest moving, and found none. There was no reaction to Dean yelling his name. </p><p>"Sam, wake up," Dean whispered, his voice breaking. "Sam, hey!" He felt for a pulse. <em>Not like this.</em> Dean pursed his lips and screwed his eyes shut, ducking forward over his brother, pulling him closer to his chest. <em>Not like this.</em></p><p>"It's okay, it's okay, you're okay," he gasped, taking in a shuddery breath, eyes blurry as he looked around, holding Sam in his arms. His hand moved from his brother's neck, refusing to keep looking for a pulse so he could hold onto hope that it was somehow still there. His gut told him otherwise.</p><p>"We've still gotta...work through a whole bunch of stuff, you can't- you can't check out out on me, Sam- I gotta apologize, huh? How does that sound? I gotta apologize and you gotta give me crap for it-"</p><p>His throat closed and Dean cursed through a small voice. He looked around and took a shaky breath, resting his hand on Sam's head as he tilted him towards his chest, hating the weight that fell against him but closing his arms around it all the same. He kept his other palm on his younger sibling's wound, ruffling Sam's hair a bit.</p><p>Dean's voice wavered and he spoke calmly, eyes stinging in denial, "I'm gonna patch ya up. That's my job, right? And I've- I've sucked at it lately, so...so you gotta stay with me so I can make ya up to you-" Dean sucked in a breath and let out a chuckle, "I'll stop going to all the fast food restaurants that don't have salads just to piss you off."</p><p>His hand cupped Sam's head and whispered, "Just- just hold on, little brother, okay? Couple-" he swallowed back the truth, not feeling Sam's heartbeat against his chest. He still denied it and whispered, "couple more minutes, Sam."</p><p>"S-Sammy?"   </p>
<hr/><p>He wanted to murder that heart monitor. The endless sea of black he felt like he was drowning in was now an fuzzy blanket of light. On the bright side his stomach and chest that had been in searing pain ever since that bullet sank into his chest, was feeling better. He feels like exhaustion was threaded into every inch of his body with a needle, but Sam is staying awake because of that God awful beeping. It was the only thing indicating that he wasn't dead, so he knew that Dean was probably acting like it was made of gold, but Sam despised it. He had a headache from the blaring sounds that were steady and much louder to him than to the older Winchester listening to it.</p><p>He couldn't open his eyes yet though, so he endured the ringing of his ears and the spreading migraine for a bit more until he was able to, eyelids fluttering, lips parting just slightly, sucking in a breath through his nose which didn't hurt like hell. </p><p>He slowly turned his head and saw Dean was slumped in a chair next to him. </p><p>"Can you please, shut that thing up?" Sam croaked out and his brother's head whipped up in a mix of happiness, relief, and confusion. Sam gave him a quick look before he glared at the machine that was showing small lines flicking upward with every beep, a staggered squiggle lasting for a small dash before shooting up again. </p><p>"Sammy?" Dean asked, like he was making sure it was him, clenching his hand down on his brother's wrist. Sam smiled painfully. </p><p>"Hey," he said quietly and Dean broke into a grin. "How the hell do you look worse than me?" he demanded and Dean smirked, lowering his head slightly. </p><p>"Because my little brother is a pain, that's why," the older Winchester said in a low growl.</p><p>"You were worried," Sam accused him innocently.</p><p>"What's the angrier word for that?" Dean asked with a chuckle, yawning and rubbing his tired eyes with the back of his knuckle. "By the way, I'm beating the crap out of you when you're healed. Don't you ever push me out of the way ever again, you understand me?"</p><p>"Well you are <em>fickle</em>, Dean. First you don't think I'd die for you, then you yell at me when I try," Sam drawled, tossing his head over to glance at him. His lip curled to show he was kidding. Dean still winced and he bit the inside of his cheek, nodding. The younger Winchester moved his shaking hand and tapped his brother's wrist, "I'm not picking a fight."</p><p>"Well that's a first," Dean looked up with a smile. </p><p>"Dean, you know I didn't mean any of that crap I said during our fight, right? You just...push my buttons sometimes and I push back," Sam told him in a low mumble. </p><p>"And I push you into cars," Dean snorted and Sam let out a low laugh. "Sorry about that," he snickered, rubbing the back of his neck. He spread his hands and then clasped them, asking, "How- how are you feeling?"</p><p>"Like I got shot," Sam admitted with a shake of his head, shrugging his shoulders as he adjusted his position in the hospital bed. "What- what happened?" he winced, hand going to clutch his sore side. "I must have passed out..."</p><p>"More like your heart stopped," Dean corrected, avoiding his gaze. </p><p>Sam's eyes widened. "What? Before the ambulance got there or after? W-was I with you?" Sam demanded, his throat closing as he realized he could have been laying in Dean's arms while his older brother thought he was dead. "I- I don't remember-"</p><p>"Nah," Dean scoffed out, rubbing a hand over his face as he gave a weak smile. "It was in the ambulance. I was there, yeah, but they- they brought you back pretty soon after so don't get ahead of yourself. I didn't have a chick flick while you were out."</p><p>Sam relaxed and nodded, "Okay, well, that's good..." he trailed off with a wince. </p><p>"Yeah, you still scared me there for a minute, man," Dean huffed, carding a hand through his hair as he sank into the chair.</p><p>"Sorry," Sam apologized, comforted by the concern in his older brother's voice.</p><p>"I meant what I said about pushing me out of the way though," Dean said firmly, glancing at him quickly. "I don't care what puppy eyes you throw at me, I'm socking you straight in the face the minute you can take a punch."</p><p>"Fair enough," Sam nodded with a ghost of a smile. Then he hesitated and they sat in silence as he debated what to say next. The young hunter eventually spoke slowly, "I'm sorry I was pissed about Benny. You were right. He- he is different. He's a good guy. And he has your back, Dean."</p><p>Dean stared at him and nodded slowly, speaking quietly. "You-" he cocked his head suspiciously, "You're serious?" he asked. </p><p>"This is my serious face, so, yeah," Sam smirked. </p><p>"T-thanks," Dean said firmly, giving him a weak smile. "And...I'm sorry I gave you crap for Purgatory. And I'm sorry because this probably isn't a good time to get into it, but Sam, I need to get into it, right now. I-" He shook his head and his voice broke, much weaker than the young hunter had heard in a while. When he looked up, he had a shattered expression and he whispered, "Sam, if I had known- I-"</p><p>Sam looked down and assured him, "Don't. I didn't tell you-"</p><p>"Because I never gave you the chance," Dean cut him off in fury. "Sam, it's my job to keep you safe. To protect you. And then I find out that not only did you try to off yourself while I was gone, and that's bad enough, but that I've been dragging you through the mud because of it since the day I walked through the door?"</p><p>"And I told you go to hell," Sam countered quietly, Dean shaking his head. "And I took dirty shots," Sam continued, "about Benny, about Stanford, hell, I even compared you to dad. And I didn't stop pushing, Dean, even when it was clear that you were already past your limit. And I didn't tell you about Purgatory, which I should have, but I was just so mad that part of me didn't want to fix this and that's not your fault," he said firmly.  </p><p>"Okay," Dean said after a minute. Then he put up his hand and suggested nervously, "If you want to talk about it...we can...are you- you're okay now, right?" he asked with a gaze of concern. </p><p>"I was okay the minute you burst through the cabin door trying to prove you weren't a monster," Sam grinned, remembering the shock as his brother flipped him and sliced his arm. "Even if we weren't...on good terms, you were still back. So yeah, I'm good."</p><p>"Good," Dean said firmly before he ducked his head and ran a hand over his face. "Well that was a hell of a lot of apologizes. You're never gonna get me to say the words 'i'm sorry' ever again," he snorted. "I've had my fill for at least ten years. Minimum."</p><p>Sam chuckled quietly, nodding with assurance. But his gaze was still cautious; he wanted to make another thing clear and he found his brother's gaze. "Look, I've screwed up. I know I have. Colossally. And if apologizing until I die means I get my brother back, then I'll do it. But Dean, I followed you to hell and back," Sam said weakly, his voice breaking just slightly and he chewed on his lip, blinking to clear the skin out of his eyes. "And yeah," he admitted, "I've kept stuff from you and kicked you where it hurts and we've been...not the best team lately, but you're still my brother. And I'd still die for you."</p><p>"You think I don't know that, Sam? I mean, you practically just proved it," Dean smiled weakly. He shook his head, "I take cheap shots and I know you may not believe me but I'm promising you, right now, that's all that was, man. Like that thing about Benny being a better brother? He may be less annoying then you, but he hasn't been through what we have, and he <em>isn't</em> you. That was a douche move because I know where to hit. Because I <em>know</em> you. I've won most of the arguments since we were kids but back then you'd cry and then I'd get in trouble,- nowadays, you're firing some pretty harsh shots yourself." Sam looked down guiltily and Dean smirked to show he was just teasing. "And that's fine. I deserve em. I keep holding crap over you and I am sorry for that." Then he cursed with an attempted smile, "Dangit, I apologized again."</p><p>"Thanks," Sam said quietly with a weak smile and nod. </p><p>"But we're tearing each other apart, Sam," Dean said seriously, his voice low, "and we need to stop. We have a lot of baggage between us that we're gonna need to unpack, and that means we're gonna fight," he admitted. "But, we've always split the crazy when we rode together, so...don't give up on me just yet, okay man?" There was a bit of fear in his gaze and his laugh was a nervous one. "Because I'd take a jacked up, annoying as hell Sam Winchester over anybody, any day of the week, even if I say I wouldn't," Dean confirmed, before he lowered his gaze and awaited Sam's response. </p><p>The younger quelled his anxiety by letting out a low chuckle and he rubbed a hand over his bruised jaw, muttering. "Yeah, don't give up on me, either. I guess we're both screwed up," Sam admitted and Dean grinned, nodding. </p><p>"Yeah, I guess we are," Dean said in agreement looking up at his brother in sadness.</p><p>Sam's gaze softened and asked cautiously, "But we'll be good, right? Eventually, I mean."</p><p>Dean locked eyes with him and made a face, "Not sure."</p><p>Sam wore he could hear the thud of his own heart as it fell but then Dean's lip curled and he smirked, "You can turn off the eyes. I just may be a little off because you don't eat trail mix like a normal person," he shrugged, teasing. "It's gonna bother me for the rest of my life."</p><p>Sam broke into a smile. "Leave me alone," he groaned, sinking back into his pillows as he swatted at his brother's arm. </p><p>"You know who eats it in handfuls, Sam? Psychopaths. You have to at least save the chocolate for the end," Dean said firmly, ignoring the protests being shot in his direction from his younger sibling. "And who eats the raisins?" </p><p>Sam rolled his eyes and sighed in annoyance, "Whatever." </p><p>"You want some water or something? Or food? I want food, and you haven't eaten so you need some energy," Dean told him casually, changing the subject after they finished snickering, clasping his hands in question.</p><p>Sam felt his chest grow warm at their old banter, and he realized that his stomach was growling a bit. He nodded and admitted, "Yeah- yeah, that would be nice. Thanks."</p><p>"Okay, sit tight, I'll get ya something," the older hunter nodded as he palmed the sides of his chair and raised himself to his feet.</p><p>Sam turned in his bed to try and push himself further up against the pillows and he jumped as he turned back around, Dean grabbing both of his shoulders and pulling him gently into his chest as he wrapped his arms around him. The younger Winchester was shocked at first and he blinked, his arms rising slowly and clasping around his brother's back, ignoring the pain in his side.</p><p>"Dean-"</p><p>"Yeah, shut up." Dean was shaking, only slightly, and he leaned to hug him, and Sam tightened the embrace in response despite the ache in his side, feeling his brother's hand settle on the back of his head. Sam ducked his chin into Dean's shoulder as he curled his fists in the back of his brother's jacket.</p><p>Then they pulled away, Sam feeling a firm pat on his back. Dean cleared his throat as he straightened without a word, stepping back and grabbing one of the extra pillows and launching it at his face as he started for the door. Sam smirked as he caught it with a groan, muttering, "I got shot, why the hell are you throwing pillows at me?"</p><p>"Because that's what big brothers do," Dean told him firmly with a small cocky grin, slipping out and shutting the door behind him. </p>
<hr/><p>
  <strong>4 Days Later</strong>
</p><p>"Get me out of this stupid hospital," Sam groaned as he slung his legs over the side of the bed, tugging on his jacket over his shirt, cautious of his sore chest. "I swear to God, next time you get hurt and we have to make an ER stop, I'm making you stay for a whole week as payback."</p><p>"Absolutely not, I'll kill you," Dean told him with a shrug before he helped his brother steady himself when he stood. "We're just being cautious, Sam, you have no idea how much blood you lost. It's a wonder the doctor bought the whole story I pitched him."</p><p>"Yeah, yeah, well I'm fine," Sam insisted firmly. </p><p>Dean gave him a look but nodded, telling him to stay put while he signed him out and Sam nodded, going to shove on his shoes as his older brother slipped out the door. It opened when Sam was tugging the laces of his second sneaker, and he snapped his head up, surprised Dean had been so quick-</p><p>"Hey, Sam."</p><p>"Benny," Sam greeted him, standing with a wince as the vampire crossed the room quickly so the young hunter didn't have to hobble far, the door shutting behind him. They shook and the man took off his hat, moving backwards to give him space. </p><p>"How are you feeling?" he asked, looking Sam over. </p><p>"I'll live," the young Winchester gave him a smirk as he slipped on his shoe and exhaled sharply to tie the laces, jostling his hurt side. "And I guess I have you to thank for that. Dean said you called the ambulance."</p><p>"Yeah, it was- the least I could do," the man nodded his head nervously. "I'm leaving town," he said, motioning with his hat, "but I wanted to check up on you and say bye to Dean. And also to...let you know that I am not trying to get in the way of you two, or act as a replacement. You're brothers. I respect that."</p><p>"Look, Benny, we're good, okay?" Sam told him truthfully and the vampire straightened. The young hunter sighed, "You got my brother out of Purgatory, and I thank you for that. You have his back and...in this life, we don't have that many friends, so I'm glad he's got you. And I'm not trying to get in between you guys either. You went through hell, that's a recipe for a tight bond."</p><p>"Thanks, Sam," he nodded sincerely, his Louisiana drawl thick towards the end. </p><p>"So if you're ever with him, watch out for him, okay? And if you ever hurt him, I have silver bullets, I'll find you," he added, only half joking, but Sam knew that that day would never come. Benny was a true friend to Dean, Sam was ready to admit that. He gave the vampire a smile and Benny put up his hands in surrender with a chuckle. </p><p>"Point taken," he assured him with a grin, "You don't have to worry. And here I was thinking Dean was the protective one."</p><p>Sam smirked and admitted, "Yeah, I guess it goes both ways. We're on our way out, if you want to-"</p><p>"Yeah," Benny nodded, moving a chair out of Sam's path as he went to open the door. Then he turned his head in question, "Is Dean doing okay? He won't talk about it, so I was wondering if he got it off his chest with you at all. He seemed pretty shook up when they got you to the hospital."</p><p>Sam kept his frown of confusion stifled and decided to act like he knew what he was talking about. "Yeah," he lied. "He's okay now, just rattled him, that's all." </p><p>"Don't blame him," Benny scoffed, looking down the hallway as Sam crossed the room. "It was at least four more minutes after you went before the ambulance got there," he said with a raised eyebrow and a shake of his head. Then he grinned weakly and admitted, "I guess you can add another tally to the Winchester Cheating Death count." </p><p>Sam put it together and he remembered Dean's wince when he had asked when his heart stopped. He froze in his tracks and stared at Benny, "I was dead before it got there, wasn't I? Medically? And then they restarted my heart on the way to the hospital."</p><p>Benny made a face before it clicked with him and he sucked in a breath, widening his eyes, "You- you didn't know? He didn't tell you- Sam-" he cursed, putting up both hands once he realized Dean had probably kept it a secret on purpose. "Uh-"</p><p>Sam waved his hand in reassurance, "Benny, it's fine. I swear. I just- can you tell me- I was just...and Dean...thought...because I was?"</p><p>"Four minutes," Benny nodded after swallowing. "Until the ambulance got there."</p><p>The young hunter took a deep breath that shook and nodded slowly as he tried to process the information. Dean hadn't told him to save him from the pain he was feeling now. A couple days ago, he would be angry, but he knew he would have withheld the same information had the roles been reversed. He took a breath before he looked up at Benny and decided, "Don't...don't tell him you told me, okay? Can we just...keep this between us?"</p><p>"Fine by me," Benny laughed nervously. "Now lets get the hell out of here before I spill anymore secrets."</p><p>Sam grinned and nodded, the vampire holding the door open for him and the young Winchester walked through, turning to make eye contact with his brother who was down the hall. Dean signed the last paper and immediately jogged for him, grumbling, "I told you to wait for me, Sammy."</p><p>"I don't listen," Sam shrugged with a grin, letting his brother's hand hover over his arm. </p><p>"Clearly," Dean snapped in annoyance, shooting him a look before he faltered at the puppy eyes Sam was doing subconsciously and he groaned, turning away in defeat. He shook Benny's hand with a nod before they clapped each other on the back. "Thanks for staying," Dean told him, and Benny clasped his shoulder.</p><p>"Anything for the Winchesters," Benny nodded, before he pointed down the direction he had come from. "I parked in the back lot, so I'll see you both. Don't forget to call."</p><p>Dean nodded to him with a smile and Sam offered him a nod, shaking his hand before the vampire put on his hat and walked down the hallway.</p><p>"Alright, let's get out of here, the nurses aren't even hot," Dean told him, motioning for the lobby. Sam nodded with a wince as he turned, Dean putting a hand on his back as they walked for the exit, the sliding doors opening. He had looped an arm around his brother's shoulder by the time they were crossing the street and together they wove through the cars until they came upon the sleek, black, 1967 Chevy Impala. </p><p>"Hey Baby, you miss me?" Dean greeted her, running his hand along the side as they approached it. "Alright, easy," Dean warned him. He tightened his grip on Sam's shoulder as he opened the passenger door and eased his brother down into the seat, the young hunter exhaling sharply as he jarred his bullet wound. He turned and gave Dean a thumbs up and a nod and his brother shut the door before looping around the car and slipping into the driver's seat. </p><p>He turned the keys and put it in reverse, backing out of the spot before slamming the stick back, flooring it in drive as they exited the parking lot. </p><p>"Hey, Sammy?" Dean asked him as he lowered the music that had started to blare. </p><p>His younger brother looked over, "Yeah?"</p><p>"Don't you ever sit in the backseat again. It's weird," Dean grumbled, staring straight ahead. </p><p>"I didn't think you noticed," Sam laughed, sinking into the familiar seat, the rumble of the engine a comfort to both of them. </p><p>Dean looked over in frustration. "Didn't notice?" he demanded with a quick scoff. "My idiot brother didn't complain about my driving, turn down the music or crank up the thermostat. I nearly went insane that whole drive."</p><p>"You <em>are</em> going ten over-"</p><p>"Shut up." </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Started in the Impala and ended in the Impala. Two different vibes tho haha. And although theyre obv not done fighting, this is where I'm gonna leave this one off teehee, I hope you liked it! Thank you so much for everyone who commented on the last one you are all so sweet and supportive it means so much &lt;3<br/>I hope everyone is enjoying Winter break and having a great day. There will only be one more chapter in this one, a request, and it will end on a funny note :)))) theres some talk about a prank prompt....who knowssss<br/>ANYWAY if youre a marvel fan hop over to that side of my page January 1st i will be posting the first chapter of a new story so yay that and then stay tuned for the last chapter of this which will come out ASAP i promise!<br/>Thank you all so much for reading and have a wonderful day!!!!!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0019"><h2>19. Cross the Line</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Request timeeeeee :) Thank you Wolves_and_starlight!!! I hope I do your idea justice!! Because it was freaking brilliant.  And this is the last chapter :( its been a heck of a ride, thank you to everyone who has commented and read and supported- yall are awesomeeeee<br/>Ive hopped over to marvel but like ive mentioned i will def be posting some one shots on my page eventually!!!<br/>I rly hope you like this one muahahaha i had a blast writing it, its sorta short but its super sweet &lt;3 &lt;3<br/>And a certain favorite angel makes an appearance :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Pranks were not a good idea. </p><p>You would think the Winchesters would have learned from the past and maybe thought harder about if they really wanted to dive into each prank war as they came up, but they never did.</p><p>One reason for why pranks were never a good idea is because they never ended well. <em>Ever</em>. </p><p>It should have sunk in a long time ago, when Dean slipped nair into Sam's shampoo when they were kids, and...well, one can imagine how that went. Sam got him back by dying every single one of Dean's shirts pink since he was the one in charge of the laundry that week. He had found a couple bright pink shirts in the lost and found and just couldn't help himself as he added them to his sibling's load. </p><p>The two brothers didn't talk to each other for a couple days after those two occurrences, just shot one another dirty looks with an occasional insult such as "baldy" or an innocent question from Sam about what the girls at school thought of his wardrobe. The 'not talking' thing got old though, and from them on, they still talked even when they were pissed about the tricks they were pulling on each other. It was an unspoken agreement. The only time they wouldn't talk in their life was when the other crossed the line, which almost never happened when they were younger and rarely happened when they were older. </p><p>Another reason would be because the pranks always escalated too. <em>Always</em>. </p><p>Perfect example would be when they had worked that case with the Tulpa. It started with the spoon in Sam's mouth (Dean still had the picture his younger sibling didn't know he took). Then Sam rigged the wipers and the blaring music, a simple prank, because they always started small, but enough to get a ride out of his older brother. Then Dean took it up a notch and sprinkled Sam's underwear with itching power, which was another notch up. And rightfully so, Sam followed suite and super glued Dean's beer bottle to his hand. They turned their terror on the Ghostfacers with the fake call from the producer and the dead fish (sometimes Sam didn't get Dean's sense of humor but it still made him laugh), and called it a truce. </p><p>The pranks came out of nowhere. And it wasn't always because the other was bored, or just wanted to piss their sibling off. Sometimes it was just a great opportunity. </p><p>There was one time Dean got drunk and happened to owe Sam five dollars from an earlier bet, which the young Winchester asked him to pay in his wasted state. Dean begrudgingly obliged just to shut his brother's whining up. Then Sam, suppressing a mischievous smile, asked again about three minutes later because his older sibling didn't remember. The day after, Dean was treated with a hangover and a surprisingly much emptier wallet. Sam was rich- well, as rich as a Winchester could be. The older hunter retaliated about three days later by short sheeting his younger brother's bed and pouring an insane amount of hot sauce packets inside his smoothie.</p><p>However, sometimes they started because one of them <em>was</em> incredibly bored. </p><p>A day where Sam had gone for a store run and then a research splurge in the library and left his computer open, Dean had nothing else better to do. So, he cracked his knuckles and spent the time creating about 300 folders (most explicitly named) and assigned all of the current documents stored on his laptop to random ones, completely disorganizing Sam's system. The young hunter was pissed at that, very, very, pissed. </p><p>Not even twenty four hours later, because apparently Sam was just too pissed to even wait a day to get him back for it, Dean was sitting in his chair at his desk, just skimming through his phone when he heard his name called- no- screamed, from his brother's room. </p><p>"Dean! DEAN!" It wasn't a call, it was a yell for help, and Sam's voice was strained and panicked. </p><p>Any thought of the prank flew out of his mind and Dean slammed his phone down on the desk and sprinted from the room, eyes narrowed, gun ready to kill whatever was hurting his brother as he ran down the hallway, the wall catching his shoulder.</p><p>"Sam? SAMMY!"</p><p>Fear coursed through his veins as he heard his brother yell for him again and he ran full speed into his younger sibling's room, tumbling to the ground with a strangled yelp as he slammed face first into saran wrap, another strip catching his ankles too. </p><p>Sam was laughing, lying with his feet crossed on his bed, licking his finger and making a number one sign before pointing to his chest. "One point, me. Whatcha doing down there, Dean?" he asked innocently with a grin, glancing over the side of the bed. </p><p>Dean groaned as he got to his feet, kicking and batting the sticky wrap away from him in a fury. He glared at his brother. "Dude, that's not cool! I thought you were hurt or something!" he snarled, angry that his big brother protectiveness was exploited by his younger sibling.</p><p>Sam shrugged with a smile, and Dean threw the bundled ball of saran wrap at him which fell short before messing up his bed and hitting him with a pillow. Sam complained about his now wrinkled comforter and the older Winchester walked out grumbling about how he could have shot him and how he would never care about saving him again.  </p><p>A lot of these prank wars had happened over the years, but they always ended in a truce, maybe with a slight altercation. In the end there was no harm, no foul. It also happened within the course of a couple days. The trick was to make sure the other didn't see them coming, let the tension build between pranks so that they were constantly looking over their shoulder.</p><p>That was, until one prank war started. This one was not like the rest; this one escalated far more quickly. It started while they were sitting in the chairs around the main table, a few books from the library spread out in their lap as they researched.</p><p>"Anything from Cas?"</p><p>"Nah, he said he'll be back either tomorrow or the next day. He succeeded in locking his phone again though. Failed password about 50 times."</p><p>"Of course he did."</p><p>"You got anything?"</p><p>"Nope. You?"</p><p>"Yeah, look."</p><p>Sam peeked up and Dean shot a spit ball at his face. The younger Winchester flinched, closing his eyes as he jumped in his seat. When he opened them, he blinked once at his gloating brother, Dean snickering as he went back to his book. Sam didn't even question where he got the straw from; his older sibling annoying him was something that happened on a daily basis. He also got small pranks done to him on occasion, like whatever the hell Dean did to his room, phone, and toothbrush while he was gone, putting sticky notes on his back, or ironing his shirts with beer every once in a while. Sam usually let stuff like this slide, not wanting another prank war to break out.</p><p>But Dean shot another spit ball at him and grinned. Then came the 'dean, stop' and the RBF, which was promptly ignored. There were five more hits after that, and the younger Winchester got up with a huff and thought, what the hell? Dean grinned triumphantly, leaning back in the spinning chair, thinking his brother was walking away since he had enough. But no, Sam went ahead and tipped Dean's chair back just the tiny bit more it needed to send his older sibling sprawling to the floor.</p><p>"What the-" Dean stared in shock, slowly picking himself up while Sam laughed in glee, leaning against the bookshelf.</p><p>"You started it," Sam told him, before sauntering away as Dean rightened the chair and glared at his back. </p><p>At lunch, the younger Winchester was drinking from a water bottle and Dean lunged at the opportunity, slamming both palms on the side of it. It exploded all over Sam's face and shirt and he looked up, dripping and spluttering, Dean grinning as Sam flicked some drops at him from his hand and went to go change.</p><p>The older brother wasn't grinning when he shaved later that night. Sam had chosen a prank that took a little more effort, jamming a small nail into the hole of the shaving cream can and supergluing it down, threading a piece of floss into a hole on the can so that when Dean pulled it off he yanked the nail out and with the knob super glued down, it continued to spray out until the entire can was empty.</p><p>"SAMMY!" Dean yelled in fury, his bathroom covered in the cream as well as himself and when it finally spluttered out in the sink Dean had thrown it in, Sam walked in, leaning against the side of the door. </p><p>"Wow, you made a mess," his brother whistled, clearly gloating. </p><p>"You're dead," Dean swore. </p><p>"Okay," Sam shrugged, walking away with a smug grin. </p><p>Dean went to one of the cruelest pranks imaginable, or so they thought at this point, filling two ziplock bags with baby powder and opening the ends, sliding them under his brother's door at 1 am. He backed up and took a running jump, planting both feet on the ends of the bags, the powder flying beneath the door and exploding in Sam's room, covering everything- and he meant everything- in the white dust. He slipped the bags out and raced to the kitchen, throwing them away, leaving the sounds of his brother yelling and falling off his bed behind him.</p><p>"DEAN!" Sam stormed in to the kitchen, smeared in white, glaring at his brother who was casually having a beer, feet up on the table. </p><p>"Wow, Sam, what happened?" he asked with a smile. </p><p>"I have to clean all of that up, you realize that? It got on my papers, Dean! And everything! Literally everything!" he yelled at him, trying to wipe it off his shirt. </p><p>"Oh, I'm so sorry," Dean spoke in monotone. "I hope it takes as long as it took me to clean my bathroom," he informed him with a fake smile.</p><p>"It's gonna take longer!" Sam huffed in fury, eyes flashing as he patted his shirt, a billow of white dust falling to the floor.</p><p>Dean made a face, "Now look what you did-"</p><p>"Oh, shut <em>up</em> Dean!" the young Winchester growled, storming out of the room. Dean smirked to himself. </p><p>Maybe if it had stopped there, which usually it did in their past years, things would have ended differently. But it didn't. And when they were going for a food run the next day, Sam stalled on the outside of the Impala, telling his brother to start the car without him because he forgot something. Sam retreated to the steps, going down a few and crouching out of sight and waiting as his brother slipped into the front seat and shut the door. </p><p>Dean turned the key and the car started. This time it wasn't the windshield wipers, it wasn't loud music, it was <em>glitter</em> that shot out of the vents and covered the entire car and him in sparkles, spraying out from the air vents like a leaf blower. Dean shut his eyes and put up his hands to try and block his face but it was no use.</p><p>There was suddenly silence.</p><p>A heartbeat. A very mad heartbeat. Fierce green eyes opened slowly and narrowed, filled with rage. </p><p>Dean Winchester really only had a couple rules that he expected people to follow: Don't touch his brother, don't touch his food, especially pie, and don't touch his car. </p><p>Sam had never screwed with the Impala, and he was right not to, because Dean had even told him it would be "the last thing he ever did". That one time Dean had thought his younger sibling had let the air out of his tires he had been pissed, but that was as close as Sam had got to the Impala. That had turned out to be the Trickster, but now Sam <em>had</em> played a prank on him, a dirty one, and Baby was involved. </p><p>It really didn't matter that Sam was one of the three rules, because if anyone was ever going to get close to killing Sam Winchester, it was going to be his older brother, right now. Sam's on the steps, walking back up with a massive grin, laughing as he approached the car. He had expected a bunch of flailing arms, some loud shouts, his nickname being yelled, stuff like that. </p><p>Instead Dean sat still in his seat, Sam could see him through the windshield, fury written all over his face and he calmly turned off the car once the glitter was all out. He blinked the sparkles out of his eyes and blew some out of his mouth before he clenched his fists over the steering wheel that was coated along with the entire inside of the car. </p><p>Sam gulped and cut his smile, walking forward as Dean got out of the seat and shut the door softly. He was covered from the waist up in sparkles, but Sam took him seriously because of the look of silent fury on his face. No screaming, no yelling- this was bad, this was really bad.</p><p>"Come on," he urged as he met his older brother in the center of the garage, "you have to admit that was pretty good-"</p><p>"What the HELL were you thinking, Sam?" Dean demanded and he raised his gaze that was red with anger, glowering at his brother who shrank down a bit. "My CAR, Sam? My CAR? Are you insane?"</p><p>There weren't many people who could still look mad covered in glitter. Dean was one of them and Sam found himself unable to even crack a small smile as he realized he might have gone too far. </p><p>He weakly gestured to the Impala and offered, "I'll help you clean it up, dude-"</p><p>Dean pushed past his arm and shoved the grocery list at his chest, "Don't talk to me-"</p><p>"Dean," Sam called after him in annoyance as his brother stormed for the steps, leaving a trail of glitter. "Dean, wait! It was just a prank, man-" His brother didn't stop walking and he jogged down the steps and slammed the door behind him. </p><p>Sam didn't see Dean for the rest of the day; his brother stayed in his room, watching TV and ignoring him. Key thing here: not talking to him. Sam had crossed a line. He knew that and felt bad, really, he did, so the younger Winchester kept his word and cleaned out the Impala once he realized that his brother was truly pissed. When he came back in to the bunker from the garage around dinner time, he found Dean had already eaten without him. Sam ate by himself and then retreated to his room and by 11 o'clock he figured he'd head to bed, but wanted to try and apologize before he did. </p><p>He walked down the hallway and knocked on Dean's door, getting no response. Biting his lip and praying he didn't get shot, he pushed it open and Dean didn't even look up from his spot on his bed, headphones around his neck. </p><p>"What do you want?" Dean asked flatly. </p><p>"Dean I-" Sam started. </p><p>"Are you dying?" his brother asked seriously. </p><p>Sam's eyebrows knit and he frowned, "What?"</p><p>"Are you dying?" Dean repeated through his teeth, not tearing his eyes from the TV on purpose. </p><p>"N-no?" Sam said slowly in confusion. </p><p>"Then get out," Dean told him simply. </p><p>Sam rolled his eyes and tried again, "I just wanted to say I'm sorry. I cleaned it up, by the way, most of it at least. Look dude, can you just forgive me and stop the silent treatment?"</p><p>Dean snorted and actually looked up, but only to laugh, "Oh, brother, I'm never forgiving you for this."</p><p>"Dean-" Sam lifted his arms helplessly before he let them fall to his sides. His older sibling's glare was back and Dean returned his furious gaze to the TV.   </p><p>"Sam, get the hell out," Dean growled, and then he turned off the TV and put his headphones on, physically blocking his sibling out. </p><p>The young Winchester pursed his lips and backed up, walking out with a shake of his head, shutting the door behind him. He had heard the tone that Dean was used when he was really pissed, and once again regretted his choice of prank. He walked back to his room, rubbing his hair and pushing his long curls behind his ear before he shut the door behind him and sank down onto his bed. </p><p>Sam let out a long sigh and ran a hand over his face, thinking about how he could make a truce with his brother. He could get a cheeseburger for him for lunch tomorrow, maybe offer to clean the guns after every hunt for a while, let him pick Page when they posed as FBI, maybe get him a bottle of whiskey or real bacon. Sam got tired of trying to think of ideas and shut off his lump with a low grumble, and he turned in his covers onto his stomach, twisting a bit before he bunched up the pillow and settled down. His eyes slipped shut before he knew it, and the young Winchester was asleep. </p><p>Dean came in about an hour later, to make sure he was really asleep by poking his head in, which Sam was, chest rising and falling heavily. The older hunter was downright pissed. Furious. Almost as mad as he had ever been at Sam, which was saying a lot. But it was a good prank, so rightly, as all big brothers had a duty to do, he had to get him back, but worse. So he had a pair of scissors in his hand. </p><p>Sam knew not to touch his car, but he had went there anyway.</p><p>Dean knew not to mess with Sam's hair, but he was going to go there anyway.</p><p>Sam had crossed the line.</p><p>Dean was about to cross it. </p><p>The younger Winchester woke up the next morning and rolled over, immediately freezing, eyes snapping open. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong. He sat up and looked around, checked himself, looking under the covers at his legs, looking down at his chest, arms, face, hai-</p><p>Oh God.</p><p>Sam's hair was much like Dean's Impala. The other brother knew not to touch it or mess with it since it was something they cared about. Since they were kids, Sam's hair had become a trademark of his, something he took more time with, more than Dean ever did. The older Winchester cut his short and spiked but Sam didn't follow suite in that arena. Instead, he always kept his long, sometimes long enough to touch his shoulders. He never cut it more than a trim, and the shortest hair he had was when Dean picked him up to go on that hunt while he was at Stanford, and even that messy mop was pretty long, with bangs as well. </p><p>And now it was...gone. The young Winchester's heart stopped and he slowly reached up with a painful gulp, not feeling any locks around his shoulders. Sam sprinted to the bathroom, nearly falling off the bed and skidded to a stop in front of the mirror. </p><p>Dean was sipping coffee in the main living room, feet up against the table when he heard a strangled yell and then a pounding of feet. He smirked into his mug and turned in his chair, meeting Sam's eyes as he heard his name roared from behind the corner, his younger brother staggering into the room, eyes wide with disbelief and hurt. </p><p>"Heya Sammy. Looking sharp, man. Oh, by the way I forgive you now," he assured him with a grin, sipping coffee innocently. </p><p>Sam's hair was short. Not bald, but short, like Dean's. How the younger hunter didn't wake up, no one knew. Sam had always been a heavy sleeper. Dean had done incredible damage, taking literal inches off, to the point where the young hunter looked almost like a different person. Usually Sam's hair framed his face, the long locks touching his shoulders, moving in front of his eyes once in a while, small waves on either side of his forehead. Now his younger brother ran his hands through his short hair, that was really on the top of his head, in shock.</p><p>"You bastard," Sam swore with a whimper.</p><p>"What, I thought you needed a trim," Dean protested. "We haven't been to the barber in a while-"</p><p>Sam cut him off, enraged as he cursed, "Dean, this isn't funny."</p><p>"Yeah, it wasn't funny when you glitter bombed my car, either," the older Winchester growled, getting up from his chair, setting down the empty coffee cup with a wiggle of his eyebrows. "Now we're even."</p><p>"DEAN! You chopped my hair!" Sam yelled at him, eyes wide as he looked at his brother in horror, storming to follow him.</p><p>Dean smirked and nodded, "Yeah, yeah I did. And you ruined my car."</p><p>His younger brother was breathing hard, furious, but his voice was still weak until he screamed, "WHAT THE <em>HELL</em>, DEAN?"</p><p>The older hunter had started for the hallway and he turned around in the nook area near the small library. "It'll grow back," he said with a shrug. </p><p>"In MONTHS!" Sam countered furiously, still tugging at the small bits of hair that he could. "And it's not even good!"</p><p>"I wasn't going for beauty," Dean snorted, and he suggested, "You can wear a baseball cap. I'll give you one of mine."</p><p>"Oh, you're a <em>saint</em>." Sam's nostrils flared, and his eyes widened with pain again before they flashed in anger. The young hunter was pissed. He was really freaking pissed. And the more he stared at the mess on his brother's head, the more Dean realized he had taken it too far.</p><p>He closed his eyes for a second, turning to face his brother and apologize before he was suddenly tackled around the waist. Unable to get a word out, Dean hit the ground and groaned, squirming to push his brother off of him. Sam wrestled him down onto the floor and grabbed one of the couch pillows, raining hits on his older brother in indignant fury. </p><p>Sam pummeled him with the pillow ruthlessly as his brown eyes gleamed and he cursed out, "You- son- of- a-"</p><p>"Get- off- me-" Dean ripped the pillow from his grip and checked his brother in the shoulder from on the floor, wrapping his leg around Sam's back and flipping him. Sam hit the ground and the older hunter pinned him, green eyes just as angry as his brothers, lips in a tight scowl as he now gripped the pillow and started his own swings. Sam curled up, putting his hands out to defend himself, ducking his head, before he shot out and grabbed Dean's wrist.</p><p>The young hunter shoved his brother off and scrambled back before he and Dean lunged for each other again on the floor. "Friggin glitter- in my car-" the older Winchester snarled as he put Sam in a headlock, his brother squirming as he punched behind him in desperation, trying to yank at the arm around his neck. </p><p>"Chopping my- hair off-" Sam countered as he wheezed and wiggled out of his brother's grip, twisting and pushing Dean backwards, falling on top of him on the floor.</p><p>It was a tangle of limbs, each brother trying to gain the upper hand, and they swung at the same time, Dean socking Sam right in the nose, Sam catching his brother in the chest. The young hunter's hand flew to his face and he groaned, using his body weight to topple on top of his brother again in revenge, flattening him against the floor as Dean tried to nurse his hurt ribs. </p><p>"You're- a- first grader-" Sam huffed out as he wrestled his brother. </p><p>"I can still- kick your ass-" Dean shot back, the two of them rolling on the floor as they twisted and swung flailing limbs. Sam got his face pressed into the floor and he squirmed on the ground, slapping his brother's hand off his face and hitting him in the chest. </p><p>The door to the bunker opened and a certain angel opened it and came in, staring over the balcony at the top of the steps as he let it shut behind him. There was a bunch of commotion and Cas knit his eyebrows, hearing chairs topple and solid thunks as well as inaudible, but clearly furious yells and a few insults. He walked down the steps and turned into the main room, walking up the small steps. </p><p>Cas stared at the two brothers who were wrestling, the fight taking over the entire room, books being thrown at each other, Dean slamming into his brother as they both fell, hitting the couch and rolling to the ground in a furious scuffle. He watched them for a couple seconds, because in all honesty, it was quite an entertaining sight. Then both Winchesters realized they were being watched and they turned around, Dean's hand frozen mid swing with his other arm gripping his brother's shoulder, Sam with a full grip on Dean's flannel, his other arm about to slam the older hunter into the ground.  </p><p>Sam gulped, and Dean gave a small wave, shoving his brother off of him while breathing hard. "Hey, Cas." The angel with the trenchcoat stared at the two of them in amusement, a smile playing on his lips. </p><p>"Hey Cas," Sam said a second later, shoving Dean off of him as well as he got to his feet, straightening his shirt. </p><p>Cas looked between the two of them before he focused his blue eyes on Sam and then his forehead and then his head where his long hair used to reside, lips turning into a frown. "Sam...your hair..." His jaw dropped slightly and he closed it when he saw Sam's face. His hair was short and choppy. Very short. And very choppy. Judging from the man's expression, he didn't like it, and it hadn't been his call.  </p><p>"Thank Dean," he snarled, glaring at his brother who gave him a fake smile. </p><p>"And if you want to go see a glittery Impala and ruined leather, thank Sam," Dean informed him. </p><p>"I cleaned it!" Sam yelled at him as he faced him in anger. </p><p>"And I said I would give you a hat!" Dean countered with a shrug. </p><p>Cas put up his hand in question and both brothers turned back to him and he announced, "I for one, would like to know what happened-"</p><p>"Dean started it," Sam grumbled, glancing at his brother with narrowed eyes. </p><p>"And I ended it, after my idiot little brother here, ruined my car," Dean snarled back. He waved his hand to Cas and made out, "A prank war got out of hand." He groaned and nursed his hurt ribs, satisfied when he saw Sam rub his nose. </p><p>Cas smirked and both Dean and Sam glared at him.</p><p>"This isn't funny Cas-"</p><p>"Cas, don't even start-"</p><p>The angel eased his smile and snapped his fingers, "Dean, your car is fine." </p><p>"No, no it's not fine, it's covered in glitter-" Dean growled, not connecting the dots in his anger. </p><p>He got shoved in the shoulder by his brother who rolled his eyes dramatically, "No, idiot, he just fixed it for you."</p><p>Dean looked up and nodded, "Oh- oh, that was the snap- got it. T-thanks, Cas."</p><p>Sam turned to the angel with his famous puppy eyed look and whispered, "Can you fix it?"</p><p>Cas glanced at him, and then his gaze flicked to Dean and he spoke apologetically, "No, Sam, I'm sorry."</p><p>The young hunter's gaze broke and Cas' heart clenched at his expression as Sam hung his head and ran a hand through his short hair. "It's- it's okay."</p><p>Cas looked at Dean who stared at his younger sibling out of the corner of his eye, chewing on his lip and he eventually looked up at the angel who was raising an eyebrow at him. Cas changed his questioning look to a pointed glare and then motioned his head to Sam and Dean rolled his eyes in annoyance, holding back a sound of frustration but he eventually nodded. Sam had sunk down in one of the chairs that wasn't overturned and the older Winchester slowly walked over to him, Cas respectfully moving to the table in the other room, watching from a distance. </p><p>"Sammy-" Dean muttered as he rightened a chair and sank down into it across from his brother. </p><p>"What?" Sam mumbled, not looking at him. </p><p>"I'm sorry dude, really. It got out of hand, I shouldn't have done that to ya," Dean said seriously, and his younger sibling looked up at him with a frown but there was a flicker of forgiveness. Dean gave him a smirk and suggested, "You know, if it makes you feel better, I'll shave my head or something."</p><p>"No, you won't," Sam snorted. </p><p>"No, I won't," Dean agreed with a laugh, leaning back in his chair as he anxiously searched for his brother's gaze. "I do feel bad though," he admits. "Just slightly," he adds quickly, "but that's something I don't admit often. I crossed a line."</p><p>"Yeah, so did I." Sam ran a hand over his hair again with a wince before he mumbled, "I'm sorry I touched your car."</p><p>Dean nodded, "Darn right." Then when Sam glared at him in warning he put up his palms in surrender, "It's fine. No harm, no foul, now that Cas fixed it. Wish I could say the same for that mess on your head-"</p><p>"Pushing your luck, Dean," Sam snapped, glancing at him. </p><p>Dean grinned and backtracked, "Okay- okay." He locked eyes with Sam and gave him a nervous smile, asking, "Are we good?"</p><p>His younger brother sighed, rubbing his head again before he nodded slowly, "Yeah. Yeah, we're good."</p><p>Cas walked down the hallway and knocked on the door to Sam's room about an hour later, and opened it when he heard the young hunter's voice. Sam was slumped in his chair by his desk and he put his book down, still a little melancholy because of his haircut but he managed a smile when the angel came in. "Hey, Cas."</p><p>"I just figured you would want your old haircut back," Cas said, managing to keep a straight face as the young Winchester's eyes widened. Cas snapped and Sam's hands reached in shock as his hair returned to normal. He ran his hands through his locks with a happy smile and let out am overjoyed laugh. </p><p>"Cas-" he spluttered, "Why did you say you-" Realization kicked in; Dean would not have apologized as nicely as he had if Sam's hair had returned to normal with a snap of the angel's fingers. Sam rubbed his hair again before he hooted, "Dean's gonna <em>kill</em> you once he figures out you made him have a chick flick."</p><p>Cas smirked as he smoothed down his trenchcoat and walked for the door, "I think I'll be okay. You want to go tell him? Or..."</p><p>"Nah," the younger Winchester decided cockily. "I'll let him feel guilty until tomorrow."</p><p>"He'll kill <em>you</em>," Cas snorted; he was not the one Sam needed to worry about. </p><p>"Probably," the young hunter laughed with a nod. Then he gave a warm smile to the angel in the doorway, "Thanks, Cas. I mean it."</p><p>"Anytime, Sam," Cas assured him. </p><p>"Hopefully not," Sam said with raised eyebrows and a nervous laugh, scratching his hair as he leaned it into his palm, as if trying to make sure it wasn't going anywhere. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you for readingggg i hope you enjoyed!! Have a wonderful day, Happy New Year, good luck with school and life and the craziness that will be 2021!! Fingers crossed its better than this past year!<br/>Love yall &lt;3 have an awesome day, and please drop a comment if youve liked this story, thank you SO MUCH for reading, and stay tuned for more works in the future!!!</p>
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